Stuffed Pumpkin for Thanksgiving

For my first Thanksgiving in England, I took over a friend's kitchen in Cambridge and cooked a meal for eleven. A few of the guests were vegetarian, so I made two main dishes: a stuffed pumpkin and a turkey. I've made this several times for gatherings over the years--something about a pumpkin stuffed with bacon and bread and cheese seems to please everyone who eats it. Thanksgiving 2020 marks the first time in nearly a decade where I haven't held a Thanksgiving dinner party, so posting one of my favourite dishes to make for others feels like a good way to celebrate.

Looking forward to serving this to friends again when it's safe to do so.

 

Pumpkin Stuffed With Everything Good

From Dorie Greenspan's Around my French Table, published in the Providence Journal on October 20, 2010

• 1 pumpkin, between 2.5 and 3 pounds (about 1 kilo). I have used larger and smaller pumpkins depending on what was available in the market, just adjust the amount of filling to the size of the squash.
  
• salt and black pepper
• 1/4 pound (about 114 g) stale bread, cut into 1/2 inch cubes.  If your bread isn't stale, toast the slices in the toaster before cubing them. Any kind of bread you would use for toast will do. I like using a whole wheat (wholemeal) or seeded bread for its taste and texture
  
• 1/4 pound (about 114g) cheese--something strong and firm, like Gruyere, Emmenthal, Cheddar, or a combination, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
• 2-4 gloves of garlic, coarsely chopped. If your garlic is old or you are sensitive to the taste, you may want to bash the cloves with the flat of a knife and remove the 'germ', which is the green or white bit at the centre of the clove (i.e. the green tip that starts growing when your old garlic starts sprouting). This makes the flavour less harsh.
  
• 4 slices of bacon (preferably streaky bacon or another kind with a decent amount of fat), cooked until crisp and then chopped. If you are feeding vegetarians, the recipe is still delicious without it,
  
• about 1/4 cup (about 33g) snipped fresh chives or sliced scallions (spring onions). When I don't have either of these around, I use half a small onion, sauteed until translucent in the fat from frying the bacon.
  
• 1 tsp dried thyme, or about 1 tbsp fresh thyme
• about 1/3 cup (79ml) heavy cream (double or single cream, it doesn't matter. I once tried to substitute whole milk and it was fine, but cream is much better)
  
• a pinch of fresh-grated nutmeg. f you don't have a nutmeg grater, you will want a very scant 1/4 tsp of pre-grated nutmeg

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit (about 176 degrees Celsius). If you have a pot or pie pan that's a bit wider than your pumpkin, grab that, otherwise use a baking tray.

Carefully cut the top off the pumpkin using a sharp knife, just as you would when carving a Halloween jack-o'-lantern.  You want a hole that's big enough for you to scrape out the seeds and stringy bits from inside the pumpkin, and off of the top. If you like toasted pumpkin seeds, set the seeds and pulp aside to deal with while the pumpkin is baking.

Make sure to salt and pepper the inside of the pumpkin generously--if you're using a salt of pepper mill, most of the seasoning will fall to the bottom, so you want to get your hands in there and spread the seasoning up on the sides of the pumpkin too. I once skipped this step and regretted it, so make sure you do it--pumpkins, like potatoes, taste good with lots of salt and pepper. 

Mix your garlic, bacon, bread, cheese, thyme, and nutmeg in a big bowl. Add pepper to taste. The bacon and cheese may give you enough salt, but taste the filling to see if it's to your liking. Mix in the cream--you don't want the filling completely soggy, since the pumpkin exudes liquid as it cooks, but you don't want it too dry either. It's a bit like stuffing a turkey--a clump of filling should stick together when you pick it up and lightly squeeze it in your hand. Stuff the filling inside the pumpkin.

The precise amounts of bread and cheese and cream you need will depend on the size of your pumpkin. You want to be able to get the lid back on but the pumpkin should be quite full. If you need more filling, just toast and chop some more bread (or just chop it if it's stale), cube a bit more cheese, and add it, with some dribbles of cream, until your pumpkin is filled.

Put the cap on and bake the pumpkin for somewhere between 90 minutes and two hours, or until the filling is bubbling and it's easy to poke a dinner knife into the side of the pumpkin. I usually check the pumpkin and rotate it (my oven has a hot spot) after about the first 45 minutes to an hour of cooking.

After 45 minutes to an hour (for a smaller pumpkin) or an hour to an hour and fifteen minutes (for a larger pumpkin), take the top off so the pumpkin juices can bake away and the top of the filling gets a bit browned. If you forgot to set a timer, this is around when you can poke a knife into the pumpkin but there is still some resistance. The skin of the pumpkin may be golden and blistered in a few spots. Bake the pumpkin with the top off for approximately 20-30 minutes, or until done.

The pumpkin is ready when you can easily stick a dinner knife in its side. Carefully carry the pot to the table or transfer it to a serving plate. If you've got it on a baking tray, take care when carrying it--the pumpkin is very hot and may be a bit wobbly. Cut into 2-4 pieces (small pumpkin) or 4-8 pieces (large pumpkin), and enjoy.

Number of servings depends on the size of pumpkin and diners' hunger levels. Dorie Greenspan says it serves 2-4. I've found that a large pumpkin can serve at least eight, especially if there are other dishes on the table.

Toasted Pumpkin Seeds

Pumpkin seeds are edible and tasty. I like to separate them from the pulp under running water--don't worry about getting them 100% clean, but it helps to remove some of the pumpkin goop.

Put your pumpkin seeds in a pot and cover with several inches of water. Add LOTS of salt (seriously, if you have a good number of seeds from a large pumpkin, you can use a whole tablespoon) and bring to a boil. Or boil the water in your kettle and pour it over the seeds and salt.

Boil the seeds for about 20 minutes or so. I have done as few as 15 minutes and sometimes over thirty, the timing doesn't have to be exact. Pour off all of the water and spread the seeds out on a baking sheet.

You can blot the seeds with a paper towel so they're mostly dry but I don't always bother. Pour over a few teaspoons of oil (you want the seeds to be coated but not swimming) and season to taste. I typically use a little salt (you don't need much after boiling them in salt water), pepper, and about 1/2 tsp paprika or chili powder.

Bake the seeds in the oven with the pumpkin. Check them, and give them a little stir, every 10-15 minutes. It can take them about half an hour to bake--they are done when they look dry and are golden.

Enjoy a nice snack while you're waiting for your pumpkin to finish baking.

Finding a Pumpkin in the UK

Unlike in the United States, there doesn't seem to be much of a distinction between jack-o'-lantern pumpkins (said to be stringy and tasteless) and varieties of pumpkin grown for eating. I have made this recipe with carving pumpkins from a grocery store or vegetable stand and found them to be excellent eating. 

Finding pumpkins in the UK can be challenging--they typically start appearing a few weeks before Halloween and then vanish from stores on 1 November.  I get around this by buying my first pumpkin as soon as I see them in stores, and then buying a second (or third) one right before Halloween. Provided the pumpkin skin is free from nicks or soft spots, I've been able to keep them in the kitchen for cooking for at least a week or two--and sometimes as long as a month.

I have found that this recipe also works well with a crown prince squash (which is shaped like a pumpkin and has a light green skin). Actually, I've had good results with any pumpkin shaped squash--just make sure to choose one you can safely carve a lid in.

Both of these pumpkins were used to make stuffed pumpkin.

The White Gloves Problem

So you're sitting on the couch watching television with your resident medievalist, and you get to a scene with a rare book or manuscript. We're watching 'Map of the Seven Knights', an episode from the TV show Grimm, but you could be watching any show or movie. Eyes on the screen, you notice that your medievalist leans forward. They tense.

The characters reach for the rare book or manuscript.

'No, no!' cries the expert on screen. 'You must wear these!'

"White Glove Tour" by Minneapolis Institute of Art is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

The on screen rare book expert hastily dons white gloves and hands the intrepid investigators their own pairs to put on. 

A scene from the show Grimm, which inspired this post

 Meanwhile something terrible seems to be happening to your medievalist. Is that...is that high pitched wail coming from them? What on earth is wrong?

Congratulations, friend! You've just met the white gloves problem.

What Went Wrong?

If your medievalist has done an MA (at some institutions, this may also be a part of undergraduate training, but not everyone has this opportunity), they have likely had at least a year's worth of training in how to work with medieval manuscripts--classes both on paleography (the study of medieval handwriting) and codicology (the study of how books are made). If they have gone on to do a PhD, or a second masters' in archival science or rare books librarianship, they will have continued this training. Depending on their field of research, they may even be an expert in manuscripts produced in a particular place or time, or manuscripts of particular genre of writing, such as legal texts.

They probably have never worn white gloves to handle those manuscripts. More than likely, they have been trained not to wear gloves (and if they are a manuscript scholar, they likely don't wear nail varnish much if ever--the manuscripts don't like it, and your medievalist can't handle them with painted nails).

A quick google search reveals that almost every major library has tackled this at some point--as the British Library points out, their experts regularly get scolded by the public for not wearing gloves in videos or photos of them handling their old books! The National Trust explains why wearing gloves to handle rare books and manuscripts actually endangers them. The Smithsonian's essay on the subject stands in solidarity with your whimpering medievalist.

Have you ever tried to text someone wearing your winter gloves? You keep stabbing at the keypad on your screen, and hitting all the wrong letters, and it takes forever to hit the right ones. That same lack of dexterity applies to handling ancient pages with gloved hands: you have less dexterity and control over your touch. You might accidentally tear a page or swipe your finger across a flaking bit of ink. Plus, cotton gloves are not perfectly smooth--fibres from the glove might snag on the material you're handling. Anyone who's ever been around a little kid knows that white fabric stays white for...typically not long, meaning that those pristine white gloves are likely to be picking up dirt and spreading it on the book, not keeping it off. Counter-intuitive as it may seem, your bare hands (freshly washed and dried and free of lotion or nail varnish) are safer for the book.

This is not news--librarians and archivists and medievalists and other specialists in old stuff have been counteracting the white gloves problem for a long time. So why do the white gloves persist?

Strategies of Distinction

 

How do you show that a manuscript is special? Libraries and museums handle this in different ways--they might hold a special exhibition of manuscripts from particular cultures or time periods or places, with lots of fascinating signage or audio guides. If you're lucky, you might get a special tour from one of the experts who helped make the exhibit, pointing out interesting or significant details. If you're wandering through a permanent display, a book might be set out on its own in a special case. The point is, as a viewer you are given visual and spatial and sometimes even auditory cues (the medievalist who gasps when coming face to face with the Codex Amiatinus) to know you are in the presence of something spectacular.

 

Now, The Secret of Kells clearly proves that manuscript-making can make for good audiovisual entertainment, but when your rare book or manuscripts is a guest cast member for only a scene or two, how do you make it stand out? I would argue that simply providing video of the pages is exciting enough, especially if they have gold leaf or illumination, and your medievalist likely agrees with me.  But for someone who doesn't have our level of interest in rare books and manuscripts, how can the filmmaker quickly convey that something rare and special has appeared on screen?

They have their characters reach for the white gloves. In fact, they usually have their characters be admonished to put on the gloves before handling the manuscript. Pay attention! a white glove scene says, there's a manuscript onscreen!

Your medievalist is paying attention--a manuscript just appeared--but they're also upset and frustrated that the filmmaker once again went for the easy visual shorthand of the white gloves scene, instead of asking the actors to, you know, act as though they were in the presence of something spectacular. Sometimes I wonder if this reflects a larger malaise in the way we modern folk approach heritage--we'd rather stick with the easy stereotypes that tell us something is important than more nuanced approaches that help us learn why it's important.

Don't do this.

In any case, if you, like me, are watching 'Map of the Seven Knights' with your medievalist, their wail likely reached a shriek when you reached the scene above--running your fingers over text way the person is doing in the photo above makes a nice visual shorthand for someone skim-reading a text, but touching the ink like that is likely to damage it.

Filmmakers, keep your medievalists happy and your manuscript-handling accurate. Find other ways to show viewers how special an old text is.

#Keepshowingup: My CV of Failures

About four years ago, the idea of the 'CV of Failures' made the rounds of academia-centered social media and higher education periodicals. By listing unsuccessful applications, successful scholars such as Johannes Hauerhofer aimed to give perspective on their careers and achievements, and normalise discussions of academic rejection. Hauerhofer's full CV of Failures can be found here, and he provides links to other scholars' CVs of Failures as well.

Mittens and Madame Vice President

 It's been a long week and I don't have an eloquent post in me so here is a list and mittens.

1. Kamala Harris is now vice president-elect of the United States.

2. She will be the first woman, and the first woman of colour, ever to hold this office.

3. As someone who got into history through reading and writing about American women's history for school projects, I was moved to tears when I heard Kamala Harris say that she will be the first woman to hold this office, but not the last.

4. 'Dream with ambition' is a wonderful message for children. And the rest of us, too.

5. I have spent the past day and a half watching every video I could find of the joyous cheering and honking of car horns that took place across America when the election was called for Biden and Harris.

6. One of my favourite one-liners about the election result is

So, the guy with the stutter beat the bully.

— Hank Green (@hankgreen) November 8, 2020

7. Another favourite one-liner occurred after I texted some friends from work, 'So how many people do you think tweeted at Trump that he's fired tonight?' and one of them immediately replied '74 million'.

8. The first presidential election I voted in was in 2008, and I remember watching the results come in with members of my college fraternity. Someone shouted 'It feels like we just blew up the Death Star!' when the election was called for Obama.

9. This week I want to make donations to food banks and get out the vote organisations, such as Fair Fight, in Georgia. I am in awe of Stacey Abrams and the many other organisers whose work made the difference there.

10. Today I reknit the thumbs on a pair of mittens to be the appropriate length. They would have been finished before this, but I sat on them for several weeks trying to convince myself that a too-short thumb was something I could cope with.

Faux cable knitted mittens

11. The yarn comes from Caithness Yarns, whose proprietor won my heart by repeatedly referring to his "sheepies" when we spoke at a wool festival.

My Favourite Poem

 One Art

 

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. 

 

- Elizabeth Bishop (from this anthology)

In trying to remember where I discovered this poem, I think first of the Writer's Almanac. This was a short radio segment in which the American radio personality Garrison Keillor read a short poem and offered a brief overview 'on this day in history' centered on writers and literature. Keillor was accused of sexually harassing female coworkers 2017, and his shows disappeared from public radio. Further digging reveals that the Writer's Almanac featured numerous poems of Bishop's over the years, but never 'One Art', so I don't actually know where I first found it. High school, browsing one of the English classroom's Norton Anthologies, having finished my class reading? At university, somehow? I am not sure. It is a poem so much a part of me that I cannot remember when I did not know it. It has spoken to me at many different times in my life. As the UK enters its second lockdown, it seems worth revisiting once more.