The buttery-sweet smell of morning muffins, fresh from the oven. A lavishly frosted kid's birthday cake, awaiting its candles. A sticky spoonful of chocolate-chip cookie dough snuck from the bowl. What can be more comforting coming out of the kitchen than home-baked treats? Home Baked Comfort, Williams-Sonoma's latest addition into its line of comfort-food cookbooks, is very aptly named.

Written by longtime cookbook editor and Bay Area Bites contributor Kim Laidlaw, Home Baked Comfort jettisons the informative but anonymous tone typical to many Williams-Sonoma books for a warmer, more personal voice. Many of Laidlaw's recipes are inspired by family traditions or by cooking with friends, interspersed with photos and recipes from well-loved neighborhood bakeries, including our own Tartine.

There are also a few recipes from popular home baker-bloggers, like Deb Perelman of Smitten Kitchen and Aran Goyoaga of Cannelle et Vanille. The short interviews with the owners of local bakeries are pithy and funny, and the brightly charming photos of each spot made me want to run right out and get a Banana Puddin' cupcake at Sugar Mama's Bakeshop in Austin, Texas or a purple-studded, sugar-topped blueberry muffin at Huckleberry Cafe & Bakery in Santa Monica.

Beautifully photographed by baker Eric Wolfinger (who also photographed the striking Tartine Bread), the book looks both scrumptious and modern, neither cutesy-cozy nor bare-plate stark. Wolfinger, a baker himself, made every recipe he photographed, providing yet another round of useful recipe testing. Recipe pages without photographs are given a parchment-paper wash, a bit of visual interest presumably meant to evoke a family recipe scribbled on a time-yellowed slip of paper.

Nothing's too daunting; nothing requires much more than the usual home-kitchen setup of cake pans, pie pans, and baking sheets. (Do pick up some buttermilk, sour cream, and a microplane citrus zester before you start, however.) And, like the pictures, the recipes are flavorful and engaging; you could serve them at a bake sale or a dinner party and earn the same enraptured, nothing-but-crumbs-on-the-plate reaction. As an dedicated home baker myself, I caught up with Laidlaw at her home in Noe Valley on the eve of her book's release to find out how it all came together.

First of all, how did Laidlaw go from editor to writer? Last year, as part of her job as an editor at Weldon Owen, a San Francisco-based publisher which creates Williams-Sonoma's branded books in addition to other titles, Laidlaw was tasked with finding a writer/recipe developer for a planned home-baking book. (Full disclosure: As a freelance writer and editor, I have worked with Laidlaw and others at Weldon Owen professionally over the years.) The more she thought about the project, the more she realized, "This is what I do!" It wasn't just that she was a lifelong home baker; before becoming a full-time cookbook editor, she'd graduated from CCA's Baking and Pastry program, then worked as a baker at Oakland's La Farine bakery. She knew, having edited dozens of Williams-Sonoma cookbooks, just how important it was to produce the sort of meticulously tested, foolproof recipes that the brand was known for, and felt sure that she had both the baking and writing chops to do it.

But just being an employee didn't give her an automatic in; like any other potential author, she had to present a detailed proposal outlining her recipes, her approach, and why she'd be the best choice for the job. It worked, and with a pressing deadline looming, she got busy whipping up layer cakes and butterscotch puddings in her cramped home kitchen, where there was no Viking stove or Sub-Zero fridge, just the usual generic appliances of any apartment rental.

Writing the book happened to coincide with Laidlaw's pregnancy--which translated into a mostly ravenous appetite. Laidlaw laughed when asked about the rapturous headnotes describing each recipe. "I wrote it while I was pregnant! I would find myself eating half the batch of scones," in one sitting, and everything she made tasted like the best thing ever. Her husband, who had recently started a new job, earned instant popularity around the office as the guy with the recipe-testing wife; "crazy amounts" of tester cookies, brownies, cakes and more went with him to work almost daily.

Now, with the book just out, Laidlaw is still baking, only this time with her young daughter Poppy tucked in a carrier across her chest. "We bake together. She loves it!" Laidlaw said, and it's true: during my visit, Poppy was giggling and smiling, her eyes following her mother's deft movements as Laidlaw whisked together the batter for Pumpkin-Brandy Bread, (see recipe below) a specialty of her own mother's. The finished product, still hot out of the oven, wasn't overly boozy, but it did have a wonderfully grown-up whiff of brandy to it, making it perfect for afternoon tea, especially during the holidays. Her trick for cooking while parenting? "I cook everything in tiny steps, so I can stop anytime."

Some of her favorite recipes in the book are ones that come from her own family traditions, like the Christmas Breakfast Pie, something that she, her mother, and her brother make every Christmas, no matter where they are, and the Beer Rolls, originally made with just Bisquick and beer. "My brother and I thought that was so cool, baking with beer!" she said, which led her to develop a similar, from-scratch recipe that captured the appeal of the original.

She finds her inspiration in things she sees in bakeries, in restaurants, in flavor combinations she imagines. "I'm kind of a lemon freak. There's a crazy amount of citrus zest in the book, it's kind of obnoxious!" As for her favorite thing to bake, "definitely pies and galettes," although she especially admires bread bakers. "It's a real skill that can be kind of hard to do in a home kitchen. But it's so basic and satisfying." Flipping through the recipes, it's clear that Laidlaw has a taste for fruit; there are wonderful, not-too-sweet fruit desserts in every chapter. Pear Custard Tart (see recipe below), inspired by a old Julia Child recipe, comes out delectably elegant, and the vanilla-poached pears are good enough to eat on their own. Laidlaw prefers a hint of salt to too much sweetness, and few recipes seem overly gooey or rich.

It's an easy, appealing book, reflecting Laidlaw's own opinion, based in experience as both a professional and a home baker, that baking isn't that hard, and that its reputation as the stern, inflexible taskmistress of the kitchen is ill-deserved. Once you know the basic chemistry of baking and have a feel for how different baked goods work, you can mess around with your recipes, more than you might think.

"The whole point of the book is to get more people baking, get them to see that it's not so daunting, make it approachable and fun."

That said, are there common pitfalls that new bakers might avoid?
• "People overwork pastry and biscuit dough too much, then they get frustrated," when it doesn't turn out as flaky or fluffy as they hoped.
• In making quick breads, like muffins, that are raised with baking powder and/or baking soda, "some people mix the batter and then just let it sit," rather than getting it into the oven, pronto. Once the batter is mixed, the chemical leavening process starts, and so delaying the baking process can produce a flat result.
• And finally, people frequently overbake, paying more attention to the minutes specified in the recipe than to what their senses tell them about the finished product.

It all comes down to not following recipes too rigidly.

"I want people to relax and enjoy it, be more flexible. Not all ingredients are the same, and things change depending on how cold, hot, or wet the day is. Just relax! I think it's the best thing you can do for somebody, to bake something for them."

Recipe: Pear-Custard Tart
The first recipe from Julia Child that I ever made was her French custard apple tart, which I still love to this day. This delicately flavored tart, filled with vanilla-poached pears and brandy-spiked custard and topped with sugary toasted almonds, is an ode to her and that memorable dessert.

Ingredients:
Flaky Pie Dough for single crust (see recipe below)

for the poached pears
3⁄4 cup (6 oz⁄185 g) Sugar
3 ripe but firm pears, preferably Bosc, peeled, quartered, and cored
Peel of 1 orange, removed in strips with a vegetable peeler
1⁄2 vanilla bean
1 large egg
1⁄4 cup (2 oz⁄60 g) sugar plus 1 tbsp
3 tbsp all-purpose flour
1⁄2 cup (4 fl oz⁄125 ml) heavy cream
1 tsp pure vanilla extract or 2 tbsp brandy (optional)
Pinch of kosher salt
1⁄4 cup (1 oz⁄30 g) sliced almonds, lightly toasted

makes one 10-inch (25-cm) tart

Instructions:
Prepare the flaky pie dough and chill as directed. (see recipe below)

To poach the pears, cut a circle of parchment paper that will fit in a medium saucepan. Cut a small circle in the middle of the parchment. In the saucepan, bring 3 cups (24 fl oz/750 ml) water and the sugar to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium and add the pears and orange peel. Split the vanilla bean and scrape out the seeds with the back of a paring knife; add the pod and seeds to the saucepan. Lay the parchment in the saucepan to submerge the pears. Adjust the heat so that the liquid simmers gently and poach the pears until just tender, about 15 minutes. Let cool in the poaching liquid.

Position a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 400°F (200°C). On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the dough to a circle about 13 inches (33 cm) in diameter. Transfer the dough to a 10-inch (25-cm) tart pan with a removable bottom and ease into the pan. Trim away any excess dough. Line the tart shell with foil and fill with pie weights or dried beans. Bake until the crust is dried out and just starting to color a bit, about 20 minutes. Remove the foil and weights. Let cool. Reduce the oven temperature to 350°F (180°C).

Cut each pear quarter lengthwise into 4 slices, then lay most of the pear slices in the crust in an overlapping circle close to the rim. Use the remaining slices to fill the middle.

In a bowl, beat together the egg and the 1⁄4 cup sugar until thick and pale. Beat in the flour and then the cream, vanilla, if using, and salt. Pour evenly over the pears. Bake until the custard starts to puff up, about 10 minutes. Sprinkle the toasted almonds and remaining 1 tablespoon sugar over the top of the tart. Continue to bake until the custard is set and lightly browned, 15–20 minutes. Let cool on a wire rack until warm or room temperature before slicing and serving.

Baker's Note:
To turn this into an apple tart, gently sauté 3 peeled, cored, and sliced apples in 1 tablespoon butter until they just start to become tender. Spread evenly in the partially baked crust, pour over the custard, and proceed with the recipe from there.

Recipe: Flaky Pie Dough for Single Crust

Ingredients:
1 1⁄4 cups (61⁄2 oz⁄200 g) all-purpose flour
1⁄4 tsp kosher salt
1⁄2 tsp sugar (optional; omit if making a savory dish)
7 tbsp (31⁄2 oz⁄105 g) very cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
5 tbsp (3 fl oz⁄80 ml) ice water, plus more if needed

makes enough for one 9-inch (23-cm) pie or tart

Instructions:
In the bowl of a food processor, stir together the flour, salt, and sugar, if using.

Sprinkle the butter over the top and pulse for a few seconds, or just until the butter is slightly broken up into the flour but still in visible pieces.

Evenly sprinkle the water over the flour mixture, then process just until the mixture starts to come together.

Dump the dough into a large lock-top plastic bag, and press into a flat disk. Refrigerate the dough for 30 minutes or up to 1 day, or freeze for up to 1 month.

Recipe: Pumpkin Brandy Bread
Growing up, I remember my mom baking this bread in metal coffee cans and how I loved the funny round shape. This recipe calls for a lot of brandy, more than you might be comfortable with, but it is honestly the best pumpkin bread I have ever tasted. You can cut the brandy in half if you want.

Ingredients:
4 large eggs
2 cups (1 lb⁄500 g) granulated sugar
1 cup (7 oz⁄220 g) firmly packed light brown sugar
1 cup (8 fl oz⁄250 ml) canola oil
2⁄3 cup (5 fl oz⁄160 ml) brandy
1 can (15 oz⁄470 g) pumpkin puree
3 1⁄2 cups (171⁄2 oz⁄545 g) all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking soda
1 1⁄2 tbsp pumpkin pie spice
1 tsp kosher salt
1⁄2 cup (2 oz⁄60 g) chopped pecans or walnuts, lightly toasted (optional)

makes 2 loaves

Instructions:
Position a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 350°F (180°C). Generously butter two 9-by-5-inch (23-by-13-cm) loaf pans.

In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs and sugars. Add the oil, brandy, and pumpkin and whisk to combine. In another bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, pumpkin pie spice, and salt. Add to the pumpkin mixture along with the nuts, if using, and stir to combine.

Divide the batter between the prepared pans and bake until richly golden brown and a toothpick inserted into the center of a loaf comes out clean, about 50 minutes. Let cool slightly in the pans, then turn the loaves out onto a wire rack to cool.

Baker's Note:
Baked in smaller, individual-sized loaf pans, this decadent bread makes excellent mini gifts during the holidays. Divide the batter between the pans. The baking time might vary depending on the size of the pans. Once the baked loaves have cooled, wrap each one in colorful cellophane, tie a ribbon around it, and bring on the good cheer.

Recipes and Photos appears with permission from Home Baked Comfort. Photographs by Eric Wolfinger Copyright 2011 by Weldon Owen Inc. and Williams-Sonoma, Inc.

Pumpkin for Christmas: who knew? My Midwestern pals, that's who. Putting together two back-to-back holiday parties for my best friend, who cherishes her Minnesotan roots, I was surprised that she put pumpkin cake, made in a Bundt pan, of course, on the top of her list of must-have treats for the table. She was right: big smiles lit up the faces of the guests who hailed from Chicago and Minneapolis when they spied the cinnamon-brown Bundt. "Pumpkin cake for Christmas! I was just thinking about that," said one. "With whipped cream, of course," agreed another.

It makes sense, though: such a cake is dense and spicy, redolent of all the fragrant holiday spices that perfume everything from gingersnaps to mulled cider and hot wine this time of year. It's easy to throw together, since a couple cans of pumpkin are probably already in the cabinet, souvenirs of Thanksgiving's pie-minded supermarket stock-up. (A recent report found that 20% of Americans always have canned pumpkin on hand in their pantries. Having poked around in a lot of home kitchens, though, I would guess that most of that pumpkin was bought in 1993, forgotten, and never moved or dusted since.) If not, there's a plethora of gorgeous fresh winter squash out there, ready to be roasted and mashed.

(The nomenclature of pumpkin bread aside, I've found that butternut squash gives the most consistently full-flavored results, and cranking your freshly roasted squash through a food mill turns any stringy chunks into a velvety puree.)

The pumpkin cake I made for last week's holiday party was a basic buttery-cinnamony recipe originally published in Gourmet. It was light and moist, thanks to the pumpkin and buttermilk. I added powdered ginger, fresh nutmeg, and a pinch of cloves to the mix; having just cinnamon and allspice is like the Brady Brunch without Cindy, Jan, or Alice.

Turns out I wasn't the only one thinking about pumpkin at this time of year. Talking to my old pal Jennifer Joseph, poet, founder and publisher of the excellent Manic D Press, and Bernal baker par excellence, I got the inside scoop on the pumpkin cake she made last week, which was devoured, down to the crumbs in less than two days by her husband and daughter. Made with whole-wheat pastry flour, fresh cranberries, walnuts, chocolate chips, and pumpkin, it was, she said, "secretly good for you," and we all know chocolate is a health food, right?

It also looks particularly bright and festive, which meant it wasn't too much of a jump to take it from afternoon cake to morning bread. I've cut back the sugar a little, subbing in apple juice (or cider) for the water in Jen's original recipe so as to add a little more natural sweetness and flavor. Served warm, this bread is lovely on its own, or spread with a little whipped cream cheese.

Happy holidays!

Secretly Good for You Pumpkin Breakfast Bread
Fresh cranberries add a nice tanginess to this sweet bread. Stock up on cranberries when you find them in late autumn; they freeze beautifully and don't need to be thawed before using. In a pinch, you can use dried cranberries, but since they're already sweetened, they won't add as much contrast to the finished loaf.

Yield: 1 loaf
Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 50-60 minues
Total Time: 1 hour, 10-20 minutes

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
1 1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice (see note, below)
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs
1 cup pumpkin puree
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup canola oil, melted butter, or melted coconut oil
1/4 cup apple juice
2 tbsp molasses
1/2 cup chopped fresh cranberries
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1/2 cup dark or white chocolate chips, optional

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a loaf pan or metal or Pyrex ring mold.

2. In a large bowl, sift together flour, spices, baking soda, and salt.

3. In a medium bowl, beat eggs, sugar, pumpkin, oil, apple juice, and molasses together.

4. Stir pumpkin mixture into flour mixture, stopping when just mixed. Gently stir in cranberries, walnuts, and chocolate chips, if using. Spoon into prepared pan.

5. Bake 50-60 minutes for a loaf pan, ring mold 40-50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Note: Pumpkin pie spice, sometimes called apple pie spice, is a blend of commonly used baking spices, usually including cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice, and/or cloves. For this recipe, you can substitute 3/4 tsp cinnamon, 1/4 tsp freshly ground nutmeg, 1/4 tsp ginger, and 1/4 tsp ground cloves or allspice.

I can still remember the moment I truly arrived in California. It was August of 1990, and I was fresh out of college and ready to start a life here. I'd never been further west than Minneapolis, never seen fresh lemons dangling over the sidewalk or palm trees flanking a city block. I sat down a stool at It's Tops Coffee Shop and looked up at the board of daily specials. Avocado omelet! Avocado & Jack cheese burger! BLT with avocado!

Avocados, at a diner! I marveled. Where I came from, diners counted parsley as a vegetable. Fruit was cherry Jell-O, piled in cubes and topped with a squirt of cream from a can. The golden West, I thought. I'm really here!

As you might expect, there are plenty of avocado recipes (22, in fact, including Coconut-Avocado Ice Cream and Sake-Soy Guacomole) in The Sunset Cookbook, a five-pound, 800-page compilation of the best of Sunset. Margo True, the magazine's food editor since 2006, stopped by Omnivore Books last week to talk about the history of Sunset and the creation of the book.

Turns out my 21-year-old self was hardly the first to be stunned by the glories of California living. Lured by the promise of everything from gold and orange groves to movie stardom and high-tech promise, newcomers have been flooding westward for decades on end--and since 1898, Sunset magazine has been there to tell them how to live. According to True, it began as a promotional pamphlet for Southern Pacific's luxurious Sunset Limited rail line, which curved like a smile from New Orleans through Texas and Arizona and up to Los Angeles and San Francisco. (Under the same name, the route remains as part of Amtrak's Western service.)

As one of the largest landowners in the West, Southern Pacific wanted to promote not just Western travel but Western living, hoping to entice restless Midwesterners and Easterners into buying property and putting down new roots. That first issue, a 16-page pamphlet touting the glories of Yosemite and the charms of Los Angeles, is still on file in Sunset's archives.

The magazine later developed into a more serious, stand-alone publication, focusing on economics, politics, and fiction and featuring the writing of Sinclair Lewis, Dashiell Hammett, Jack London, even Herbert Hoover. Bought by an Iowan insurance salesman just before the Depression, it dropped the highbrow essays in favor of gardening, food, travel, and home tips, a format that continues today.

The magazine really found its niche during WWII's victory-gardening movement. The federal government had plenty of gardening advice to share with homeowners, but little of it applied to the unique climates and landscapes west of the Continental Divide. So brothers Bill and Mel Lane, sons of the magazine's original owner, started their own Western test garden on a one-acre plot near U.C. Berkeley, sharing their findings with the magazine's growing readership. (Their experiences would lead to the development of Sunset's Western Garden Book, now the must-have reference for anyone with a garden from Seattle to Tuscon.)

By the early fifties, the brothers had a mission to turn the Sunset offices into a laboratory for Western living, a place where everything from party recipes to garden design could be tested and experienced. To that end, they moved the business from downtown San Francisco to a seven-acre spread in Menlo Park, where it remains today. Architect Clifford May, dubbed "the father of the ranch house," built a sprawling, single-level structure that looked more like an inn than an office.

True, who had been working as an editor at Saveur magazine in New York City, still remembers how stunned she was upon arrival for her first interview. Where the Saveur offices were located on a particularly gritty urban block, Sunset's building had floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors that slid open onto courtyards filled with benches and tables and shaded with pergolas twined with flowering vines. Cool terra-cotta tiles flowed seamlessly from indoors to out. A series of test gardens were arranged to mimic the distinct natural landscapes of the West; the desert cacti of the Southwest, the redwoods of the Central California coast, the cloud forests of the Pacific Northwest. (When she related all this to a colleague back in New York, her friend replied dryly, "Sure makes you miss the methadone clinic on the first floor, doesn't it?")

By the late 60s and early 70s, when the glamor of the sun-and-surf California lifestyle was at its peak, Sunset "was like Vogue," said True. "Each issue was 300, 350 pages. It was huge!"

And food, of course, was a big part of both Western living and the magazine itself. Cooking and entertaining meant different flavors, done with a different sort of flair than elsewhere in the country. There was the emphasis on year-round, casual outdoor dining, the everyday influence of Mexican and Asian cuisines. Artichokes, abalone, avocados, dates and citrus fresh from the tree, chile peppers, Alaskan salmon, Dungeness crab--all kinds of things counted as exotic elsewhere in the country were common here.

And Sunset garnered a lot of firsts, promoting woks and Chinese cooking in the early 50s, guacamole in the 60s, farmers' markets in the 70s, even publishing the first American recipe for pesto in 1946. The magazine built an outdoor adobe oven (and published a wildly popular how-to), set up beehives and chicken coops, even pit-roasted an entire pig on the company volleyball court (much to the distress of the local fire department).

In planning the cookbook, True and her staff knew they had to create a big, general-interest book that would nonetheless be uniquely Western. The introduction features "24 Iconic Western Dishes" that are "inextricably embedded in Western cooking and eating," from date shakes and mai tais to cioppino, pho, crab Louis, barbecued oysters, plank-roasted salmon, tamales, fish tacos, Caesar salad, and California-style pizza. There are instructions for shucking oysters and making dim sum, sushi, and Vietnamese spring rolls at home; guides to craft beers and Asian greens; and short histories of the places and people behind the kitchen staples we take for granted, from the artichoke growers of Castroville and the oyster farmers of Tomales Bay to the pepper growers of New Mexico and the discoverers of the navel orange, Meyer lemon, Hass avocado, and more.

Naturally, there's an extensive section on the wines of California, Oregon, and Washington (with brief mentions of the wine-growing regions of Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, and British Columbia), along with detailed recipe-pairing suggestions.

For Bay Area readers, it's particularly fun to see our local heroes called out. Delfina's Carbonara Pizza and Pizzetta 211's Margherita Pizza both make an appearance, as do Elizabeth Falkner's Chocolate Chiffon Cupcakes, Bay Wolf's Pinot-braised Duck with Spicy Greens, Bradley Ogden's Soft Overnight Herb Rolls, and the Steamed Halibut on Soft Tofu with Black Bean Sauce from Heaven's Dog.

Just like the original Sunset Limited pamphlet, The Sunset Cookbook is an irresistible come-on for the joys of living out here in the land of salads, grilling, and avocado fries (really--see page 275). Want to move all your favorite people out West? Put this book on their holiday list. They'll be here.

Farmer John's Favorite Pumpkin Bread
A lovely nibble for Thanksgiving breakfast, courtesy of Farmer John's Pumpkin Farm in Half Moon Bay. Adapted from The Sunset Cookbook.

Makes: 2 loaves

Ingredients:
2 cups flour
1 1/4 cups dark brown sugar, packed
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts or pecans
1/2 cup raisins
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 1/4 tsp nutmeg
3/4 tsp ground cloves
3/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp allspice
1/2 tsp ground ginger
3 eggs
1 3/4 cups canned pumpkin or mashed roasted pumpkin or winter squash
3/4 cup vegetable oil

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 350F. Lightly grease 2 8 1/2-inch by 4 1/2-inch loaf pans. In a large bowl, mix flour, sugars, nuts, raisins, baking soda, spices, and salt.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, pumpkin, and oil until well blended.

3. Add wet ingredients to dry and stir just until well blended. Divide between 2 pans.

4. Bake until bread pulls away from pan sides and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 50 to 60 minutes. Let bread cool in pans on a rack fro about 15 minutes. Loosen bread from the pans with a knife and invert onto rack. Cool thoroughly before slicing.

Photo by Charlotte Melrose

It's pumpkin time! These next few weeks, pumpkins will be everywhere you look. And not just on doorsteps and at hay-strew corner pumpkin patches; there are pumpkin spice lattes at every Peet's, divine pumpkin ice cream at Mitchell's Ice Cream in the Mission, pumpkin bread and pumpkin cupcakes in every bakery.

Maybe it comes from having a birthday in October, but I'm a sucker for anything pumpkin-y. Which means I'm doing a lot of pumpkin-themed cooking this time of year--pumpkin bread, pumpkin cookies, curried pumpkin-and-apple soup, and more.

My secret? I don't actually use pumpkin, not even those cute little made-for-baking sugar pies or baby-bear pumpkins. Instead, I like to range through the goofy and gorgeous world of winter squash. Every squash-selling farmstand has dozens on offer right now, and I'd bake with just about any of them. (For me, squash season is also heralded by the arrival of many orphaned squash on my doorstep, dropped off by friends with CSA boxes and a guilty glut of butternuts and delicatas.)

Donna Noeller and David. Photo by Charlotte Melrose

Since I'm up in Marin this weekend, I'm getting my squash from organic Noeller Farms, who sell at the tiny but fun Marinwood Community Farmers' Market.

Marinwood market sign. Photo by Charlotte Melrose

They sell lots of big pumpkins--mostly for carving and roasting the seeds, since pumpkins raised for size can be pretty fibrous, although tasty if you puree them or put them through a Vitamix. But my favorite is the dense and chestnutty kabocha (or kabota), a Japanese variety that's extra-sweet and good for baking.

Kabocha squash (between the chestnuts and the pomegranates) commonly called Japanese pumpkin

Yes, the easy way out is to open up a can of Libby's. There's nothing wrong with plain old canned pumpkin. But this time of year, the fresh squashes are so cute, and I'd rather put my money directly into the pockets of the hard-working farmers who are willing to grow the quirky varieties, like the bright-orange sunshine kabocha, that I love.

They smell sweet and autumnal as they bake, and your backyard chickens will treat the stringy innards and seeds like Halloween candy.

To prepare, just slice in half, scrape out the fibrous string and seeds, and bake face down in a 350°F oven for 30-45 minutes, until squash is very tender. Turn face up and let cool. Scrape flesh into a colander and let drain for a few hours. Mash into a puree; you can also crank the squash through a food mill for extra smoothness.

Everyone seems to have a favorite recipe for pumpkin quick bread. This yeasted version is a little more unusual. It makes a great base for turkey sandwiches slathered with mayonnaise and cranberry sauce; it's also wonderful for breakfast toasted and spread with apple butter.

Yeasted Pumpkin Bread
You can go sweet or savory with this bread. Reduce or remove the brown sugar altogether and leave out the spices for a more savory bread; add sweet autumn-y spices like cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and cloves to make it more of a breakfast or teatime treat. Cinnamon can be a little overwhelming, so try experimenting with just a couple, like nutmeg and cloves. Pregrated nutmeg quickly loses its punch, so try grating a fresh whole nutmeg using the fine holes of a box grater or microplane. The flavor difference is quite amazing.

Makes: 2 loaves or 2 dozen rolls

Ingredients:
1/4 cup warm water
1 package (2 1/4 tsps) active dry yeast
2 cups roasted, mashed pumpkin or other winter squash
2 tablespoons pumpkin-seed, walnut, or other vegetable oil
1/2 cup warm milk
2 large eggs, beaten
1/3 cup brown sugar, packed
1 tablespoon salt
1 1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice, or a mixture of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and/or cloves, optional
1/2 cup cornmeal
3 cups whole-wheat flour
3-4 cups unbleached white flour
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1 cup hulled pumpkin seeds
Egg glaze: 1 egg yolk beaten with 2 tbsp water

Preparation
1. In a large bowl, sprinkle yeast over water. Let stand for a few minutes, then whisk to dissolve.

2. Mix pumpkin, oil, milk, eggs, brown sugar, salt, spices if using, cornmeal, and whole-wheat flour into yeast mixture. Beat with a wooden spoon to make a thick batter.

3. One cup at a time, add white flour, stopping when you have a soft but manageable dough. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface.

4. Wash, dry, and lightly oil the bowl you were just using. Now, knead the dough with gusto for 10-12 minutes. Sprinkle over small amounts of remaining flour as needed; dough will tend to be sticky. Use patience and a dough scraper, and resist the temptation to dump in a whole bunch of flour to make it behave one and for all.

5. When dough has become smooth and elastic, return the dough to the oiled bowl. Swish around and turn over to make sure the whole ball of dough is lightly coated with oil. Cover bowl with a clean dishtowel and let rise in a warmish place until doubled in bulk, about 2 hours.

6. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Pat into a large, flat rectangle. Sprinkle with dried cranberries and 3/4 cup pumpkin seeds. Roll up dough, rolling and kneading gently to distribute cranberries and seeds throughout dough.

7. Divide dough in half, and shape each half into a round or rectangular loaf. You can also shape dough into small round rolls.

8. Place loaves or rolls on a parchment-lined or lightly greased baking sheet. Let rise until nearly double in size, about 1 hour.

9. Preheat oven to 375°F. Brush loaves or rolls with egg glaze. Sprinkle with pumpkin seeds. Bake for 20-25 minutes for rolls, 30-35 minutes for loaves. Remove from oven and let cool on a rack.

October is the official start of pumpkin bread season in our house. While other families wait for the December holidays to kick into gear before making this quick bread, our patience is limited. As soon as the pumpkins start appearing on porches for Halloween, everyone in my house knows pumpkin bread isn't far behind. The smell of baking bread with a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting through the house is our clarion call for Fall.

Pumpkin bread is one of those recipes that is distinctly American (as is the pumpkin itself). I recently came upon a recipe that was originally published in 1846 and then reprinted in The New York Times in 1914. The recipe, and the article itself, were fascinating. I was surprised that the ingredients list was far different than what is traditionally used today. Instead of making a batter with eggs, sugar and flour, the recipe produces a risen bread and uses corn meal -- or Indian meal -- along with yeast, salt and, of course, pumpkin.

When I found the recipe online, I couldn't stop looking at the little slip of scanned in paper. I was captivated by the idea of women making this bread in their kitchens (and I'm sure they were mostly women) and started pondering how the concept of pumpkin bread could have changed so drastically in the last hundred years.

Recipes are like little time capsules. The ingredients say so much about the era and place in which they were used and published. We use white flour and refined sugar today simply because our current economy makes these "staples" cheap and accessible. But when Alice B. Tregaskis -- the author of the recipe in the Times -- made her pumpkin bread, her staples were different. There was no driving to a local mega mart or Whole Foods to purchase processed white flour and canned pumpkin, even in New York City. Home cooks would create their own pumpkin purees and use corn meal ground locally or at home. These were items that were available on a seasonal and local level only.

I couldn’t help but wonder who Alice B. Tregaskis was and what cookbook she was using for the recipe. The one thing that seemed clear was that if she was writing in recipes to the NY Times in 1914, she was sort of a food blogger in her own time.

So in honor of Alice B. Tragaskis, here’s my own pumpkin bread recipe.

Pumpkin Bread

Makes: One loaf or 12 muffins

Ingredients:

2 cups of flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp ground ginger
1/2 cup softened butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup pureed pumpkin
2 Tbsp milk
1/2 cup walnuts or pecans

Preparation:

1. Mix all dry ingredients in a large bowl.
2. Beat butter and sugar until creamy.
3. Add in eggs and vanilla and cream thoroughly.
4. Add pumpkin to egg and butter mixture.
5. Incorporate dry ingredients into wet mixture, but don’t overmix.
6. Gently add in nuts.
7. Pour batter into a 9 by 5 by 3-inch loaf pan or a muffin pan that has been buttered or oiled.
8. Bake for 40 minutes if making one loaf, or 20 minutes if making muffins.