Pumpkins: stuff 'em, bake 'em, put 'em in a pie!

The first time I ever cooked a pumpkin, or made pie crust, was when I was 20 years old. My boyfriend's grandmother had died, and he and I drove, in his beat-up VW bug, to his grandparents' farm in the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was autumn, so the always-picturesque peaks and valleys were layered in vivid orange, gold and red. And there were pumpkins.

John and his grandfather disappeared into the fields pretty much as soon as we arrived, so I was left alone in the house. Normally, I'd be happy to sit somewhere and read a book, but maybe I didn't bring one; I don't remember. What I remember is that there was a large pumpkin and I decided to be domestic.  Pumpkin pie, I thought, was just the thing to warm the house and his grandfather's heart. It was a very large pumpkin. I cut it open, and laboriously scooped out the seeds and strings until it was clean and smooth inside. Then I found the largest knife I could, to cut it into pieces. I pulled out every pot in the kitchen and filled them with water. But there were only four burners. At about midnight, all of the pumpkin was finally cooked. John and his grandfather were long since snoring in their beds. I took out his grandmother's cookbook, turned to "pumpkin pie" and began to read.

A moment of reflection is in order. As you will recall, if you read my post about the grape leaves, this is a pattern; reading the recipe through at the last minute. You'd think I would learn. Apparently I am not trainable.

The recipe called for two cups of pureed pumpkin. I was surrounded by pots and pots of cooked pumpkin. I mashed up some of it, and had two cups in minutes. Then I began looking at the recipe for crust. Again, a moment of reflection; as I've mentioned took  before, Mom always told me if you can read, you can cook. In this case - bake. So, for the first time, I took flour, salt, butter, and a little water,  and worked that alchemical magic that turns simple ingredients into one of my own favorite foods - pie crust. In fact, I made two of them. Clearly, I had enough pumpkin.

While the pies were baking, I mashed up the rest of the pumpkin, packaged it up in plastic bags, and filled the freezer.

Around 1:30 a.m. I pulled two beautiful pies out of the oven, and went to bed. The next day, as we waved goodbye, I mused over what John's grandfather would do with all that pumpkin.

I've made many pumpkin pies since then, but none about which I have felt as justifiably triumphant as those.

Today I had a pumpkin adventure of a completely different kind. And I went into it this time with my eyes wide open - and without a recipe.

The Halloween pumpkin has been haunting me. I never got around to carving it, and it has remained as healthy and sound as the day in October when I bought it.

I was decidedly NOT making a pie with it. But what? I trolled around the internet and found a variety of recipes. One of the most delicious-sounding, from Dorie Greenspan, was a pumpkin stuffed with cheese and bread. But I'm trying to bring my cholesterol down, so I'm keeping my cheese consumption to a minimum. However, she also said that it has "almost no rules" and that you can stuff a pumpkin a million different ways. So I decided to take the no-rules approach, which in general suits me just fine.

I cut the top off of the pumpkin, and scooped out the seeds and stringy bits.

Foraging through the fridge, I found a heel of challah, a couple of pieces of stale rye bread, part of a whole grain party loaf , and a nice-sized chunk of pumpkin seed bread. I cut them all up into bite-sized pieces and put them into a large bowl. Then I cored and sliced two large apples, keeping the skins on; threw in a cup of walnuts, and a cup of craisins.

I mixed together two tablespoons of apple cider vinegar, four tablespoons of honey and a cup of boiling water, and poured the mixture into my bowl, stirring it all together.

I put the pumpkin into my cast-iron Dutch oven, put the top on it, and put it into a 350-degree oven. After 90 minutes, I removed the pumpkin top and let it bake for another 15 minutes so the bread would toast a little bit and the liquid would cook off.

Serve with a dash of cinnamon sugar, being sure to scoop out part of the pumpkin along with the filling. The result: delicious!