A few shy of 1000 savory ways to use pumpkin
I'm being dramatic, this is actually a short newsletter.
Hello! It’s a short little dispatch this week — I was working on two articles and also dedicating some time to a secret project that I'm not ready to tell you about yet.
Before we get to pumpkin talk, though, two things:
Check out this article on Lunar New Year food traditions by Hetty Lui McKinnon and Lisa Lin in the Washington Post! I was happy to test three of the recipes included, and loved them all: Tang-Guk, Kue Nastar, and Tsai Tao Kui.
Two more recipes that I tested for Daniela Galarza’s Eat Voraciously newsletter also came out: Kale Pesto and Breakfast Tacos. Those tacos were wonderful, in particular, because of the egg cooking method: you set a skillet over high heat, add oil, turn off the heat when the oil shimmers, then pour a few whisked eggs into the pan and watch as they puff and cook almost instantly. It’s a little bit of magic.
Ok, pumpkin time.
Though we’re beyond what might be thought of as “pumpkin season,” a perk of pumpkins is their lasting power. They are sturdy ladies with thick skins and an enviable vitality. We should all be so lucky.
By “pumpkin” I mean any firm-fleshed winter squash mostly of the Cucurbita moschata and/or Cucurbita maxima species, which were domesticated in Central and South America way, way before Columbus and his colonizing ilk arrived this side of the ocean. Some types of Cucurbita pepo — including the big Halloween carving pumpkins — are also winter squash, but most of them are summer squash. (And as Maricel E. Presilla writes in Gran Cocina Latina, C. pepo was domesticated in Mexico as far back as 10,000 years ago.)
I generally prefer firm-fleshed winter squash like kabocha — a type of C. maxima bred in Japan — because they’re a manageable size and have a lovely creamy, dense texture. But I’ve come to appreciate the heftier options, like neck squash (also called longneck or crookneck), which I prefer to butternut: more intense flavor, better ratio of flesh-to-seeds, higher chance of comedic effect. (Look up an image of them and you’ll probably see what I mean.)
Also, big squash are a steal. That fairytale pumpkin from last time? It was $8 at the farmers market. So far I’ve used it to make four servings of roasted pumpkin wedges, enough tomato + pumpkin shakshuka to yield 10 servings, and we still have a gallon-sized bag of roasted pumpkin in the freezer.
So if you happen to have a winter squash or a freezer full of cooked pumpkin, then here are a few shy of 1000 ways to use it:
I usually like to prepare it first and figure out what I’m doing with it later: Cut it in half from pole to pole, scoop out the seeds, put on a lightly greased baking sheet cut-side down, and roast in the oven until it’s tender. If it’s very, very large, cut it into quarters or even eighths.
What temp, how long? That’s up to you and your squash. I generally do 350 to 400 degrees (depends if I want a little browning/charring action on the edges) for anywhere between 30 minutes and an hour and a half, depending on the size.
I don’t bother seasoning it at this point. That’ll come later.
Once it’s cool, peel and leave in big chunks, or cut into smaller ones if you’d like. Then you can stash it in the freezer or your refrigerator until you decide what to do with it.
Homemade pumpkin puree is really quite tasty, turns out. I’d never bothered since canned is good and easy, but I had to use all these pumpkins somehow, didn’t I? All you do is put your cooked, peeled pumpkin into a blender, add a little water to get it going if needed, and purée until smooth.
Use the purée to make all the usual baked goods you probably know about. Also good: pumpkin butter. In November I made it per Alicia Kennedy’s instructions, which meant not only did I have pumpkin butter, I also had pumpkin syrup to make pumpkin hot toddies. Hell yeah. (Recipes available to paying subscribers of her newsletter.)
Pumpkin purée also mixes quite well with canned tomatoes to make a pasta sauce. It tempers the acidity very well, making it a little less harsh for folks with a tendency to burp a lot. (Not that that applies to anyone I know.)
Also, it’s very good in fruit smoothies — it lends the same sort of creaminess that banana does. You don’t have to make it a PUMPKIN smoothie, it can be a mixed berry smoothie with a little pumpkin snuck in for texture and sweetness.
Soup, stews, chilis, and all their cousins present nearly infinite options. Pick a style and search until you’re inspired. If you’ve got a lot of cookbooks, by the way, I highly recommend a subscription to Eat Your Books, which lets you keyword search your collection. That’s usually my first stop in looking for a recipe; for online ones I tend to stick to NYT, Wapo, or a few select newsletters; if those don’t pan out I take my search to the google gods and say a prayer.
Similarly, I don’t think there’s a spice or herb that would clash with pumpkin. I’m actually overwhelmed at the thought of listing all the possibilities. I can’t do it! Pick a spice or two you need to use, search spice + pumpkin, see what you find.
…so it turns out I’m not telling you exact ways to use pumpkin, but rather, ways in which to empower yourself to find the recipe that will work for you. (Teach a man to fish type thing, I guess?)
Next week, though, you’ll get a recipe for that tomato and pumpkin shakshuka. And by “a recipe” I mean a general set of guidelines. Writing fully fleshed out recipes is a lot of work that people should get paid for, and this newsletter is free and will be for the foreseeable future. :)