Chubby Bunny

Five Eggs and a Pumpkin

Courtesy of Apple Fest at NYU, I came home the other night with a pumpkin in my gym bag. Why? Well, because I spent the walk to and from math class carrying it in my hands like a baby, and that felt silly after a while. Hence, gym bag.

What do you do with a pumpkin? Especially if it’s been cleaned with Windex? Well, I couldn’t decide. I haven’t had a pumpkin to work with since I was in the second grade, when I made my first and last Jack-o-Lantern.

In retrospect, I was clever back then. I remember carving out the pumpkin as I have often watched others do– teachers, TV people, etc. After carving my uncreative masterpiece, we cleaned the seeds and toasted them in the iron skillet that same night. I remember the newspaper laying out and my brother and I (though, I think it was mostly meeeee) scooping out pumpking guts and my hands running through the slimey strands. And somehow, it occured to me that it will dry out if I don’t put some protective coating on it. Completely overlooking the obvious answer of massaging oil over the exposed surfaces, I took cheap hand lotion that was lying around.

Ok. Over ten years later, a pumpkin is no longer viewed as a gourd meant for carving. Rather, it is a giant, orange berry (or so I’ve read…) that is a ticket to new culinary lands.

I would not have worked on any pumpkin goods this weekend, but Eugene pressured me. And by pressure I mean, got me thinking and motivated. All he did was ask one question: What would you reccomend for a pumpkin dish.

Pumpkin puree is usually the start to a lot of good dishes. But really, how would I know? In all honestly, I’ve never made anything with pumpkin before– canned or fresh– and the same goes for everyone else in my immediate family. (Unless you count pumpkin seeds and Jack-o-Lanterns.)

I suggested a pumpkin pesto, pumpkin soup, pumpkin custard and a few other things to Eugene. I ruminated over pumpkin ideas, like pumpkin fudge, pumpkin truffles, pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin bars and a many other ideas. It was pretty clear many options would be eliminated– I was in no mood to use the oven. So it had to be done stove top.

After washing it like an OCD germaphobe would, I was eventually convinced that whatever was used to clean this baby was either rinsed off or very, very diluted. Mom chopped off the stem for me and I imagined how nice it would be to have a grapefruit spoon, as I hollowed out the pumpkin.

It looks like my pumpkin is vomiting.

Then I rinsed it one more time and put it in a big pot with shallow water to steam it. It sat its royal pumpkin butt on a steaming rack that held a metal plate (in fear that as the pumpkin gets softer, the rack may start to dig into the pumpkin.)

While steaming it for 10-15 minutes, I went on to make my custard the best way I knew how– impromptu.

• Five whole eggs
• Milk as needed
• Brown sugar
• Maple syrup
• Cinnamon
• Salt
• Food coloring, diluted

Yes, I have no idea what ratio I used, especially since I did not add the last two eggs until I had filled the pumpkin and saw how much more liquid I needed to fill it to the top. And I don’t know how much I used in terms of sugars and salt– just taste it, really. If they’re grade A pasteurized eggs, I’m brave enough to taste it raw now. (Not reccomended if you have a compromised immune system, fyi.)

Food coloring. I know, it’s not exactly good for you, but add your two drops of red and one drop of yellow and about a quarter cup of water to dilute the colors. I added about a teaspoon of this diluted mixture (this reminds me of Chemistry lab…) because the mixture is, otherwise, gray, thanks to the brown sugar, syrup and cinnamon.

When the pumpkin is about 65% cooked, remove the top and fill the inside with the custard filling. Before you do– check to see if any water condensed and found its way inside the pumpkin. If this is the case, empty the pumpkin of the water, before adding in the custard.

Steam for about 40 minutes (surprise, surprise) or until it jiggles a little in the center. Then turn off the heat, and let it cool. The custard should set all the way by then (carryover heat.) If you don’t know if it’s cooked of not, you can be a badass like me an poke it with the tip of a knife– when cooked, the slits will be really apparent…and then you’ll be sad that you poked the custard.
Let the pumpkin chill. In the fridge.

Ok, let’s think about this– we basically exploited a baby pumpkin for a cooking vessel and made a lighter version of flan inside. I think it’s called French flan, the kind you would find in a Viet restaurant (and also the kind Mom used to make.) And there’s no caramel sauce, which means no bittersweet caramel taste– so I would make a caramel sauce to go with it.

Since I haven’t eaten it yet, no notes on how to go about the sauce. Maybe Sunday night…

Anyway. For real pumpkin custard, I would have pureed cooked pumpkin. But I did not mention that not only was I too lazy to use my oven, I was too lazy to whip out the hand blender as well. Which is also why I forgoed candy-making with this pumpkin. I just might have to get another pumpkin next weekend.