In the United States, pumpkins mean autumn, and Halloween, and Thanksgiving. In Australia, we don't really have any of those things (though I did spy a few little skeletons on my street Friday night) but pumpkins, we have aplenty. Of all vegetables, it's the one I most often have in my fridge. I roast it in thin slices with olive oil, salt and pepper and eat it on sandwiches with goat's cheese, I sauté and blend it for soup, toss it in fat chunks into Thai red curries and on Saturday morning, for the first time I tried my hand at something sweet. We don't have canned pumpkin so readily available in Sydney supermarkets but boiling and mashing a little fresh (particularly in so small a quantity) takes no time at all. I swapped half the plain flour for wholemeal as I thought that grainy nuttiness would go nicely - a cosy complement to the warmth of the pumpkin and spices. If you can't make it over to see the pretty trees before they lose their leaves, this is a good consolation - the flavours and fragrance of American Fall in one delicious baked good.
A week ago daylight savings ended in Sydney. It was as if someone flicked a switch and the curtain fell on summer. All of a sudden, the leaves were curling on the trees, I was reaching for jumpers in my wardrobe, and seeing pumpkins and leeks everywhere. Autumn is far and away my favourite season, a magical time of year when you can sit at the table with the windows open and the light streaming in (if you live in an apartment like me and don't have a backyard) and enjoy something hot from the oven. Perfect for long, lazy, Sunday lunch.
This pie neatly encapsulates my cooking for friends philosophy managing to be both a bit special and totally unfussy at the same time. It's substantial (the pumpkin purée bolstered by cheese and eggs, the olive oil pastry surprisingly sturdy) yet not too heavy. It goes beautifully with a salad and fills you right up while leaving plenty of room for dessert. And it goes without saying I made dessert. But that's a story for another day. This post is all about pie... and this time, it's savoury.
Sometimes, life is hard. And for those times, there's soup. It's kind of like the edible equivalent of a hug - warm, comforting, generous. Here, outside my window in Sydney, the leaves flutter pale green and new on the trees. Spring is definitely in the air but there are still just enough cool days left to wear jumpers, work indoors without resentment and... make soup. Once you have a pot on the stove, bubbling away, you can relax, knowing that for all the other things that might be swirling around your head, at least you're fed. And fed well.
There's something about pumpkin soup in particular, that defies difficulty. I think partly just because of its relentlessly cheerful colour. While I find a lot of blended vegetable soups bear an unfortunate resemblance to baby or else retirement home food, this one is neither bland or fusty. The cinnamon imparts a lovely, warm flavour to the pureed pumpkin, the red onion a subtle sweetness, the chilli a nice kick, and the rice an unexpected texture, and a satisfying starchiness.
For those who'll have a spare pumpkin or three lying around next week, this one's for you.
