Pumpkin Soup With Spicy Pumpkin Seeds

Nothing says fall or winter more than pumpkin.  From pies to breads to soups, I love everything pumpkin. This creamy pumpkin soup from Williams-Sonoma's Soup of the Day makes the perfect light dinner when served with a salad and bread but works equally well as the first course of a dinner.   The pumpkin I used had a surprisingly large number of seeds; I cooked them all and ate the extra seeds as a snack for the rest of the week.  Even Sidney loved them!

PUMPKIN SOUP WITH SPICY PUMPKIN SEEDS

Serves 6

1 small pumpkin, peeled, seeded, and chopped

2 tablespoons olive oil

Salt and freshly ground pepper

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 yellow onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon ground cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground coriander

4 cups low sodium chicken broth

FOR THE SPICY PUMPKIN SEEDS

1/2 cup pumpkin seeds, cleaned

1 teaspoon canola oil

Salt

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/4 teaspoon ground cumin

Pinch of ground cinnamon

1)  Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Line a baking sheet with tin foil.  Toss the pumpkin with the oil,
     season with salt and pepper, and spread on the prepared baking sheet.  Roast the pumpkin until soft
     and caramelized, 30-35 minutes.

2)  In a large, heavy pot, warm the butte rover medium-high heat.  Add the onion and garlic and saute
     until translucent, about 5 minutes.  Add the cumin and coriander and cook for 1 minute.  Add the
     broth and the pumpkin and bring to a boil.  REduce the heat to low and simmer for 25 minutes.
     Remove from the heat and let cool slightly.

3)  Working in batches, puree the soup in a blender or food processor (or use a stick blender the way I
      do; this makes for speedier clean up).  Return to the pot and season with salt and pepper.

4)  To make the spicy pumpkin seeds, lower the oven temperature to 350 degrees and line a baking
     sheet with tin foil.  In a bowl toss the seeds with the oil.

5)  In another bowl combine 1 teaspoon salt, the cayenne, cumin, and cinnamon.  Add the pumpkin
     seeds to the spice mixture and stir to coat.  Spread the seeds in a single layer on the prepared baking
     sheet and bake, stirring once, until golden brown, 10-12 minutes.  Serve the soup garnished with the
     pumpkin seeds.

Pumpkin Donuts

Cooking with Mamma

In celebration of fall, and in preparation of a postponed Embassy-wide Halloween celebration, Sidney and I made homemade doughnuts this weekend.  I dipped into my precious stash of imported canned pumpkin puree and broke out my new mini doughnut pans in order to make this super fast and easy pumpkin cake doughnut recipe from King Arthur Flour.

If you don't have a doughnut mold- and how many of us really do- you can use a muffin pan which would probably be easier to fill.  The results will be the same; a light and richly flavored pumpkin morsel to help celebrate this autumn season.

BAKED PUMPKIN CAKE DOUGHNUTS

DOUGHNUTS

1/2 cup vegetable oil

3 large eggs

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

1 1/2 cups pumpkin puree

3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ground ginger

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1 3/4 cups + 2 tablespoons all purpose flour

COATING

3 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1)  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Lightly grease two doughnut pans.  (I used miniature ones and
      reduced my baking time but standard sized ones or even muffin pans will also work).

2)  Beat together the oil, eggs sugar, pumpkin, spices, salt, and baking powder until smooth.

3)  Add the flour, stirring just until smooth.

4)  Fill the wells of the doughnut pans about 3/4 full.  Bake for 10 minutes for miniature doughnuts, 15
      minutes for standard sized ones, and 25 minutes for standard sized muffins.

5)  Remove the doughnuts from the oven, and after about 5 minutes loosen their edges, and transfer
      them to a wire rack to cool.  Repeat the baking process until all the batter has been used.

6)  Combine the sugar and cinnamon in a pie plate.  While the doughnuts are still warm, roll the
     doughnuts in the cinnamon-sugar mixture.

7)  Cool completely, and wrap airtight; store at room temperature for several days.

Smashing Pumpkins

Autumn is my favorite season and pumpkins are my favorite part of fall.  I blame it on my New England roots but there is something about the weather changing from warm and humid to cool and crisp that excites me. Add in colorful foliage, the necessity to put on an extra layer when you venture outside, and the feeling of starting afresh and it is no wonder I look forward to this time of year.  I know fall has really arrived when Starbucks rolls out their pumpkin spice latte, my perennial favorite drink which, being overseas, I had forgotten about, until I was reminded of their reintroduction by a stateside friend.  (We do not have Starbucks or anything remotely resembling it here).  The cooler fall weather also means I can comfortably crank up the oven to bake goodies filled with the best apples, pumpkins and spices of the season.  Well, that was until we arrived in Albania.

The first issue with pumpkins in Albania is the actual word.  Kungull is Albanian for pumpkin. And squash as in winter squash.  And squash as in zucchini.  And any other gourd like vegetable.  Talk about the confusion this raises when ordering what you think is a pumpkin, squash, or zucchini item from a restaurant menu. After anticipating risottos with sugar pumpkin or squash soups only to have them arrive at the table filled with zucchini I've learned to ask for clarification prior to placing my order.  When the response is green kungull I know that the vegetable in question is actually zucchini and will adjust my order accordingly (not that I have anything against zucchini; rather it is just not the same thing as pumpkin or winter squash).

As far as I can tell, sugar pumpkins, my staple for everything from jack-o-lanterns to pies, breads, and donuts, are non-existent in Albania. Or, at least, I have been unable to readily locate them in any market, grocery store, or farmer's roadside stand.  When asked, people have directed me to squashes of various shapes, sizes, and colors --American kids use the white squashes as "ghost" pumpkins at Halloween-- but none even come close to a good old American pumpkin.  (I do have a lead on the possibility of some pumpkins being grown in the Northern Albania town of Kukes by the cousin of one of the nannies for a fellow American family here in Tirana.  Yes, I'm pursuing this but I'm trying not to get my hopes up).  I am fortunate, however, to have a small- and ever dwindling- stash of canned pumpkin imported from the United States via a military cargo plane, but I will be lucky if this supply carries me over through Thanksgiving.

Last week I found two orange looking squashes that had more of a resemblance to pumpkins than anything I had previously found here.  I took them home but lesson learned- just because it looks like a pumpkin does not mean it tastes like a pumpkin!  I've tried substituting these counterfeit pumpkins for the real thing with mixed results. Sometimes it works out and other times even the most tried and true recipe results in a culinary disaster.  As with everything else in this country, even creating pumpkin out of a squash is an ordeal that isn't for the faint of heart.

First one must go to the market and find an actual squash-pumpkin. Just because they sold them yesterday doesn't mean they are in stock today. Nor does it mean they will be restocked this year. If you are fortunate enough to find one, there isn't any guarantee that it will even remotely resemble or taste like the one you saw yesterday or bought on your previous visit.  All of the squashes I've found here have been large; so large that their hefty weight is intimidating.  Once I get the monster home, and I had better not be walking on that day- the real fun begins.

We received a cleaving knife as a gift when we got married but I had never used it and only reluctantly brought it overseas with us.  Now I'm so glad I did. There isn't any simple opening of a can of Libby's in the Brown's Albanian kitchen.  After washing the the squash I have to stand on a stool (in order to get enough height) and whack the squash until it splits in two.  Then I do it again and again, repeating the process until I have manageable pieces.  If I am going to roast the squash to try to bring out any of its sweetness, I will place the pieces on a cookie sheet and bake them in the oven. If I'm going to boil them, I proceed to peel the tough skin off of each piece  A vegetable peeler isn't quite sharp enough for this task yet a knife is a bit unwieldy.  (I will only attempt to break down a squash when Glenn is home since I am sure that it is only a matter of time before an emergency room visit becomes necessary).  Whatever the cooking method, once it is cooled it is time for the vegetable to be pureed.  Thanks to my trusty stick blender, this is by far the easiest step in this entire process.

After an hour or two of work, the squash is ready to be pumpkinized with whatever spices, seasonings, or sweetener will bring it closer to its much sought after cousin.  This is always a process of trial and error.  Sometimes I get it right and sometimes I don't.  Usually by the time I reach this point in the preparation process I am ready to call it quits for the day. When that happens I bag up my puree and stash it in the freezer until the next craving for pumpkin arises.  Then I only have to defrost my stash and being cooking. If I close my eyes and pretend really hard, I can imagine that it is just like opening a can of pumpkin puree.  Or not......................