Pumpkin is Personal

Pardon me while I jump on that out-of-control speeding autumn locomotive.  Yes, you know the one.  The Pumpkin Train.  There is no escaping the winter squash pandemonium, but my relationship with pumpkin goes way beyond cupcakes, candles, coffee, shampoo and body fragrance.  For me, pumpkin is not just business; it's personal.

Days before her death, Maw poses with great-grandson Clark in her pumpkin patch

I still miss those early fall telephone calls from my grandmother that heralded her pumpkin harvest.  Troops (I,cousin, Gwin Laws, aunt, Wanda Suddreth, and the four great-grandchildren: Zak, Clark, Mason and Kate) assembled at her Happy Valley home and followed Maw's instructions.  The two oldest kids rolled a wheelbarrow to the garden while Maw wielded her sharp knife to cut assorted pumpkins from their withered vines.  Gwin, Wanda and I provided muscle to move the largest squash to the wheelbarrow while the children gathered as many as they could carry. 

4-year-old Kate struggles with a large pumpkin

When the wheelbarrow groaned with a heavy load, Maw paused to pose for photos with the children before the group headed to her home to unload squash and dive into Aunt Wanda's Halloween treats. Buzzing with sugar highs and fresh fall air, each child chose a pumpkin for his/her own and happily planned carving a jack o'lantern face on the pale orange orb.

Maw Hamby with her pumpkin gatherers

Maw's Pumpkin Gatherings were an annual family event and her death, in 1994, just a few weeks before her last crop was ready for harvest, left a void in our family.  Thankfully, I inherited some of Maw's pumpkin seeds and the fruits of those seeds continue to replenish my stockpile of seeds, safely stored in a freezer.  Well, except for this year . . .

1994: The last gathering. Mason holds his baby sister, Hannah, born weeks after Maw's death

This summer, my nephew, Ben Hamby, helped plant some of Maw's pumpkin seeds at Heart & Sole.  Although she died years before his birth, Ben is familiar with stories of the Happy Valley Pumpkin Gatherings and he looked forward to harvesting his own squash in early fall.  Despite our best efforts to protect the pumpkin crop, both groundhogs and deer attacked seedlings.  Just before frost, when it was too late for the pumpkins to mature, the struggling plants finally produced several soccer ball sized fruit, but it was too late to harvest ripe pumpkins and save seeds.  It's a good thing I still have a stash of Maw's seeds in my freezer and Ben and I look forward to planting again next summer.  

Maw's pumpkins made great jack o' lanterns

At our family's Thanksgiving table, we are grateful for all those who helped shape us into the people we are and our traditional meal always includes dishes that honor special people who are no longer with us.  Our celebratory meal would be incomplete without Aunt Nancy's Vidalia onion pie, Granny's oyster dressing and Maw's pumpkin pie.  With fresh pumpkin in its chess-like filling, this recipe is decadent and as the pie bakes, its aromatic fragrance perfumes the kitchen.  Serve alone or with vanilla ice cream or sweetened whipped cream.  Enjoy and be grateful.  Very grateful. . .

Maw's (Ethel Bolick Hamby) Pumpkin Pie
 Yield:  2 pies (9 inch pie plates)
2 eggs
2 cups fresh pumpkin, cooked and pureed
3 1/4 cups sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 3/4 cups milk

Mix all ingredients in a large bowl, stirring to combine.  Pour into two prepared, unbaked pie shells and bake in a preheated 425 degree oven for 15 minutes.  Lower heat to 350 degrees and bake for another 45 minutes or until center of pies are set.  

Fall for Greens

My maternal grandmother often said, "Eat greens in the fall and you will not be sick in the winter."  Although there may be no scientific evidence to support her statement, I believe, as Granny did, that fresh autumn greens give a strong boost to a body's immune system.  As I gather kale, red and green mustard and turnip greens, I can almost smell that singular cooking aroma that filled Granny's kitchen on cool fall afternoons.

In memory, the dish is crystal clear.  Dark leafy greens with rich broth lapping at the bowl's edge.  Cider vinegar, tart and tingly, stands in a glass cruet, its fragrance biting the nose a bit.  Granny slices cornbread, hot from the oven, still in the cast iron skillet.  She places a steaming piece on top of the greens and we bless the food.  A simple meal, what some might call peasant food, but utterly delicious and satisfying.  Perhaps Granny's fall greens did not prevent winter illness, but they certainly boosted fall spirits. 

Two varieties of Bok Choy

After battling pests and weeds during the heat of summer, fall crops are satisfying to grow.  Rows of kale, mustard, lettuce, bok choy and arugula compete with few weeds and it is easy to harvest baskets in a matter of minutes.  In several areas of the farm, black radishes, kale and mustard grow abundantly, even though I did not plant them this fall.  Heirloom plants reseed from earlier seasons and I regard those as "free food."  Last week, I picked kale from a spot where I planted four years ago.  Since that first crop, kale grows each spring and fall.  Talk about permaculture!

Kale reseeds and provides free food

In addition to numerous nutritional health benefits, leafy greens are versatile and delicious.  Add a handful of fresh arugula to hot pasta, toss the mixture in a large skillet with a tablespoon of olive oil, scramble an egg to bind the pasta and greens, season with a pinch of salt and freshly ground pepper, grate or shred a bit of Parmesan cheese over the pasta and enjoy a delicious meal that is  quick and easy to prepare.  Brush kale leaves with vinaigrette and bake them in a 400 degree oven until they crisp.  Lightly sprinkle coarse kosher salt over the chips and enjoy a healthy snack.  Remove bok choy leaves and fill the tender white stems with pimento cheese or peanut butter for a tempting appetizer. 

Mustard thrives beside spent summer squash

Parsnips = Time and Space

Ever wonder why local autumn farmer's market vendors do not offer parsnips in the same abundant numbers as summer heirloom tomatoes?  After all, these root vegetables are as much poster children for their season as those juicy, colorful orbs are for summer.  I think I have the answer to the question as to why parsnips can be in short supply:  they require time and space.

To produce a successful parsnip crop, try this basic recipe:

1.  Purchase heirloom seeds.  Parsnips can have a low germination rate, so purchase extra.

2.  In early spring, prepare the soil.  Parsnips are root vegetables, so be sure the soil is deeply worked, about two feet.  For best results, use a tractor hiller attachment to raise the row where you plan to plant parsnips, otherwise, use a rake or hoe to make a raised row.

3.  After the danger of frost has passed, place seeds atop the row and cover with about one-half inch of soil.

4.  When parsnips begin to grow, thin the plants to allow space for roots to grow, about three inches apart.

5.  Diligently weed the parsnip row as often as possible, taking care to not damage the tender seedlings.  Apply a layer of mulch to help control weeds.

Late spring Parsnip row, weeded in foreground

6.  Keep weeding throughout summer and early fall.

7.  After a few frosts, begin to harvest parsnips.  A shovel is helpful to dig the roots, since they can be quite long  Some mature parsnips may be more than ten inches in length.

8.  Throughout winter, harvest parsnips.  Hardy plants, the roots store well in the ground, unless the winter is exceptionally harsh.  Cold weather makes the roots sweeter.

For some gardeners, growing parsnips is too labor intensive to justify the  time and real estate necessary to produce a successful crop; however, for those who crave that unique sweet flavor, sort of carrot, but not really, these long season tubers are worth the effort.  When I look at my parsnip row, frilly leaves standing tall, I anticipate the harvest and look forward to enjoying these root veggies in soups, roasted or boiled and mashed.  For a pure taste of the autumn season, fresh parsnips are the ultimate flavor.

Parsnip/Carrot soup: recipe at www.seedtales.com

Not only are parsnips delicious, they can sometimes be surprising.  Several years ago, I harvested my first parsnip crop.  It was mid-winter and the soil was cold and hard.  I used my foot to push the shovel deep into soil surrounding parsnip leaves.  When I tried to pull the vegetable from the ground, it seemed to be stuck.  After removing several spadefuls of dirt from the area, I finally worked the prize free.  When I saw what I held in my hand, I had to laugh aloud.  Who says farm work is without humor?

Passionate Parsnips

Piquillos: The Little Beak with Big Bite

I first tasted roasted Piquillo peppers at Chef Thomas Keller's Ad Hoc restaurant, in the Napa Valley.  Not only were the peppers beautifully presented, filled with a slow-roasted beef short rib stuffing and served over pearled cous cous in a cast iron skillet, they were incredibly delicious.  Sweet and spicy.  I wanted to eat them every day.  Unfortunately, back home in North Carolina, no local supermarket sold them and online shopping was not what it is today.  I tried to recreate the dish I loved, using other canned, roasted peppers as a substitute, but the flavor did not compare to those little red peppers.

A few years ago, I decided to plant Piquillo peppers at Heart & Sole Gardens.  Cultivated primarily in Northern Spain, Piquillos are thick-fleshed sweet peppers that sport a pointed tip end, hence, the Spanish name, which translates to "little beak."  After ordering seeds from the New Mexico Chile Pepper Institute, I looked forward to growing and harvesting Piquillos in North Carolina, but as with many heirloom crops that are not adapted to particular geographic regions, my first pepper yield was disappointing.  This year, after years of saving seeds from the best specimens, Piquillos seem to like our western NC climate and, finally, I have enough peppers to make the dish I love and preserve some for later use.

Before adapting to NC climate, Piquillo peppers frequently rotted before ripening

When perfectly ripe, Piquillo peppers are easy to roast and peel.  With a sharp knife, slice the stem end from each pepper and use your fingers to remove the seeds.  Place peppers on a baking sheet, lined with foil.  With the oven rack set to the highest position, broil peppers, turning often, until they are charred on all sides.  Immediately, remove from the oven and place peppers in a brown paper bag and fold the top of the bag to close.  Allow peppers to cool and then slip the charred skin from the pepper's flesh.  Use immediately or freeze roasted Piquillos. 

Dry pepper seeds to save for future planting

Perhaps there are other NC farmers who grow Piquillos, but I have yet to see them at a local farmer's market.  With a rich flavor that trumps other stuffing peppers, I predict that fresh Piquillos will prove to be popular with consumers.  Until they become available, try growing your own plant next summer, in your garden or a container.  For now, experiment with supermarket canned Piquillos, but look forward to enjoying fresh ones in the future. 

Stuffed Piquillo peppers make a pretty presentation