"We are grateful for this pumpkin and this meat. . .There are brothers and sisters who do not have good food on their table and we think of them and wish pumpkin and meat for them in the future.  And we thank the Lord . . ."

Tears of the Giraffe, Alexander McCall Smith

Mma Ramotswe and I come from slightly differing religious backgrounds, but we clearly agree that pumpkin is an essential element of shared family meals, important enough to include in the prayer beforehand. 

Pumpkin is such an amazing ingredient – nutty, rich, sweet – that for years it bugged me that you couldn't get pumpkin ice cream or pumpkin pancakes all year round.  But recently I've come to the realization that it may be the only remaining food that Americans still regard as seasonal.  We can buy tomatoes and apples in February, when both should be distant memories, but no one makes pumpkin pie or serves pumpkin beer outside of the -er months.  (At least, no one I know.  If there's someone out there who does, she has a new best friend!)

There are plenty of places to track down pumpkin in Catonsville: you could visit Shirley's for their wonderful pumpkin pancakes in the morning, have a pumpkin bagel sandwich at Sam's for lunch, enjoy pumpkin ravioli at Dimitri's for dinner, and choose between Caffe di Roma (pumpkin gelato) and Catonsville Gourmet (pumpkin cheesecake or Sugar Bakers' pumpkin Smith Island cake) for dessert.

If you want my opinion, though (and why wouldn't you?) the best way to eat pumpkin is to cook it yourself.  Start with the real thing: one of those orange things you probably already have sitting on your front steps.  Bring it inside, cut it in half, scoop out the seeds (but do NOT throw them out – we'll get to that later) and put it cut-side down in a baking pan with half an inch of water.  Put it in the oven at 350 for about 45 minutes, or until it's tender when pierced with a fork.  Scoop out the flesh and puree it.  See?  It's the same as the stuff you've been buying in a can all these years, with the added bonus of bragging rights.

Now, what to do with it?  First, pies.  You can find a recipe for regular pumpkin pie anywhere, but what you can't find – and desperately need, I assure you – is this one for a frozen version.  Start with a pre-baked pie shell; spread 3 cups vanilla ice cream in the bottom.  Stir the following into a cup of pumpkin puree (okay, you can use canned, but why would you, when you already have that nice bowl of puree from the last paragraph?): 1 teaspoon cinnamon, ½ teaspoon each nutmeg, salt and ginger, and ¼ teaspoon each allspice and cloves.  Fold in 2 cups whipped cream.  Spread this mixture on top of the ice cream layer and freeze the whole thing.  Serve with a drizzle of real maple syrup (this is what really makes it, and probably the reason my friend calls it Pumpkin Sundae Pie.)

Second, soup.  This is my favorite recipe; it works with any winter squash, such as butternut, hubbard, or acorn, but for purposes of this column I'll use pumpkin.  Start with ¼ cup olive oil; heat and sauté 1 cup chopped onion and ½ cup each celery and carrots until soft but not brown, about 10 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper.  Stir in 8 cups vegetable stock  along with 1 tablespoon curry powder, 1 teaspoon each nutmeg and cinnamon, ¼ cup brown sugar and about 6 cups pumpkin puree.  Stir until smooth and simmer for another 10 minutes.  Puree if you like your soup smooth (I do) and stir in 1 can coconut milk.  Taste and adjust seasonings before sitting down to enjoy it.  This is a very forgiving recipe, so almost any quantity can be varied slightly. You can also substitute chicken stock for the vegetable, and half and half for the coconut milk, but honestly, this omnivore prefers the vegan version.

Finally, those seeds?  Follow this recipe and be amazed.  They are perfect on top of salads or as a cocktail snack – you know, to complement your pumpkin ale.  (Make mine a Pumking, please.)