A Little Perspective
Many of us know pumpkins inside and out because year after year we’ve carved into these bulbous, Crayola-orange creatures. On the outside of pumpkins, we’re familiar with the ridges running the globes like lines of longitude. We’re familiar with the slime of stringy pumpkin entrails and the slippery seeds inside. We know the necessity of the briny handle, lest we have no holder for the jack o’lantern lid.
The word “pumpkin” derives from the Greek word “pepon” — loosely translated as “large melon.” The French called them “pompon,” the English dubbed them “pumpion,” to which the diminutive “kin” was added, arriving, at last, at our name: pumpkin.
Often misunderstood, a pumpkin is not a vegetable but a fruit, a member of the berry family. Pumpkins’ cousins are gourds, squash, melon and cucumbers.
Pumpkins come in all sizes, and bigger isn’t always better. The smallest pumpkins are Barbie doll-sized versions roughly the size of a baseball. Miniatures include Munchkins, Jack Be-Little, and the white-rinded Baby Boo.
At the other end of the scale are giant pumpkins, created around the turn of the century by William Warnock’s cross-pollination. In 1893, Warnock’s record pumpkin weighed 365 pounds. Contemporary great pumpkins can grow to weigh more than a hefty 1,000 pounds. That’s a lot of pie! Or a jack o’lantern fit to be lit by a flame thrower.
Aside from being the stuff of spicy pies and jack o’lanterns, pumpkins make cameo appearances in literature and lore. The pumpkin shell served as the residence of the wife of the controlling Peter, of nursery rhyme fame. For first class romantic transportation fit for Cinderella, her fairy godmother transformed a plain orange pumpkin into an elegant golden carriage.
The fruit lends its name as a widely evoked term of endearment, as in, “You’re my little pumpkin,” or “Come here, Pumpkin.”
What Can One Do with a Pumpkin?
Jack o’lanterns, which enjoyed their annual heyday last month on Halloween, probably originated from a Celtic belief linked with the celebration of the new year on November 1. Known as Samhain, this feast day celebrated the harvest. Moreover, the holiday paid respect to people who had died during the year. On the eve of Samhain, these spirits wandered, seeking their place of final rest. To ward away any belligerent souls, some superstitious Celts set out gifts. Others lit bonfires.
Samhain eventually evolved into the Christian All Hallow’s Eve. The legend took on a character named Jack, an evil blacksmith destined to roam the earth for eternity, guided through the darkness only by a turnip hollowed out to hold an ember straight from hell. Thus, Jack O’Lantern. Perhaps to light Jack’s way, perhaps to stave him away, the Irish began setting their own jack o’lanterns outside their house.
Short of turning them into Jack O’Lanterns, or even, on an outside shot, golden carriages, what can one do with a pumpkin?
The pies have it. One can barely say the word “pumpkin” without thinking “pie.” Yet pie spiced up with nutmeg and cinnamon is by no means the only culinary incarnation for pumpkins. Recipes include pumpkin pickles and pumpkin jam, even pumpkin beer, thought to be brewed by the American colonists.
A Thanksgiving Treat
The pilgrims probably encountered pumpkins at the first Thanksgiving. Native Americans planted pumpkins with corn as companion crops, a practice continued in contemporary times. In addition to eating pumpkin, Native Americans cut the rinds into strips, pounded them, dried the strips and wove them into mats for trading. The colonists took to pumpkins for soups, side dishes and desserts.
The Halloween decoration of choice still stretches into the Thanksgiving holiday where pumpkin plays a strong supporting role to turkey. The winter gourds remain a Thanksgiving feast staple, turning up on tables in the form of pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin bread, pumpkin bars and, of course, the practically required pumpkin pie.
Pumpkins pack a lot of nutritional clout, although when cooking with pumpkin, most folks turn to the pantry for the conveniently canned commodity rather than bake the fresh fruits. Either way, pumpkins provide plenty of vitamin A, as well as vitamin C and potassium. Like carrots, pumpkins are among the orange foods rich in beta-carotene.
Today’s hybrid pumpkins come in varieties with names like “Funny Face,” “Jackpot,” “Ghost Rider” and “Half Moon.” One particularly elegant variety is Lumina. With ghostly white rinds, these albino pumpkins offer a switch from the ordinary orange.
In the final analysis, given the simplicity of their shape, the boldness of their color, the sweetness of their nutritious flesh, there’s nothing ordinary about pumpkins. So cook them or carve them or forgo the tricks altogether and leave the humble but noble pumpkin untouched in all its orange globe glory. The nature of pumpkins? They’re treat enough, as is.
(Copyright 2000 Catholic Exchange)
