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.

Whoopie!

I have a confession to make. These were really supposed to be amazing chewy pumpkin toffee cookies. Apparently chewy and pumpkin cookies are notorious nemeses. Had I consulted the internet before attempting such a perilous undertaking I could have saved myself much heartache, wasted butter, and trays of puffy pumpkin "cookies" taunting me with their flagrant cakiness.

I felt like a failure. A fraud. What happened? Why did my cookies turn into cakes? It's all the pumpkin's fault. I learned that the high moisture content of pumpkin puree was the cause of my demise. There are two purported solutions: simmer the puree until the moisture is cooked out, or use pumpkin butter instead of puree.

Pumpkin Puree, I shake my fist at you

Well, what's done is done. I'll tackle chewy pumpkin cookies when my ego has had time to heal. In the meantime, what to do with these blasted cookie-cakes? Truth be told, while they made god-awful cookies in terms of texture, the flavor was what I was looking for -- full of pumpkin spice warmth and tasty toffee bits.

Toffee, we're still friends

Come to think of it, these cookie fails were quite successful muffin tops. And that's when it hit me. Whoopie pies! (Or shall I say whoopsie pies.) My first grade art teacher always said, "Make a mistake work for you," so this one goes out to you, Miss Morrow.

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting

I whipped up some Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting (which rocked if I do say so myself), and sandwiched a generous dollop between two of my pumpkin cookie-cakes. A finishing touch of some toffee bits along the edges and I had myself something to whoop about.

Pumpkin Toffee Whoop(s)ie Pies

Pumpkin Toffee Whoopie Pies
A pumpkin cookie whoopsie turns into a whoopie with some quick thinking and a dose of Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting (which, I am now convinced, can cure all baking woes).

Prep Time: 1 hour 20 minutes
Cook Time: 12 minutes
Total Time: 1 hour 32 minutes

Makes: about 8 whoopie pies

Ingredients:
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened to room temperature
1 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 cup (4 ounces) pumpkin puree
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 eggs, at room temperature
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup cornstarch
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon allspice
8 ounces toffee bits

Preparation:

Sift together the flour, cornstarch, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice. Set aside.

Cream together the sugar and butter until fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, and mix to combine. Add pumpkin and vanilla, and mix together until smooth. (If it your mixture starts to look a bit curdled, it is likely because your eggs or butter were too cold, or because the eggs were added too quickly, causing the fat and water particles in the mixture to separate. If this happens, don't worry. Just continue with adding the dry ingredients…it should all smooth out.)

Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture in thirds, mixing together until everything is incorporated.

Stir in the toffee bits, reserving 1/2 cup for garnishing. Cover the bowl of dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour.

Make the Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting and stick it in the fridge to chill too.

Preheat the oven to 350º. Scoop the dough out using a trigger ice cream or cookie scoop and place on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. The cookie-cakes will spread, so keep it to 6 per baking sheet.

Bake for about 10-12 minutes or until the edges are brown and the center puffs up. Transfer to cooking rack immediately or else the toffee bits tend to stick. Let cool completely.

Put together your Whoopie Pies: Spread a big dollop of the Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting onto the bottom of one of the cookie-cakes using a butter knife or piping bag. Sandwich together by placing the bottom of a second cookie on top of the frosting. Roll the exposed frosting side of the whoopee pie over a plate of the reserved toffee bits so they stick. Enjoy!

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting

Prep Time: 5 minutes
Cook Time: 0 minutes
Total Time: 5 minutes

Ingredients:

8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup pumpkin puree
1 - 2 cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon allspice

Preparation:

With an electric mixer, mix together the cream cheese and pumpkin puree until smooth, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl to ensure even mixing.

Add the vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice, and mix. Slowly add the powdered sugar until it's as sweet as you want. Refrigerate for an hour before using.

Halloween isn’t always easy when you’re an adult who longs to go trick-or-treating, especially if you don’t have a child who you can live vicariously through or enough chutzpah to don your best little piggie costume and knock on doors yourself.

I left the costume in the car as I scoured the city of San Francisco for clever Halloween treats that adults can claim as their own. After wading through what seemed like dozens of boring pumpkin cookies and ratcheting my blood sugar up several notches, I came away with three stops serving grown-ups the kind of treats that keep us feeling like big kids. They’re all much better than snarfling some stale Dots from a kid.

DeLise Dessert Café’s pumpkin cupcake and bloody berry bar. Photo courtesy of DeLise Dessert Café)

DeLise Dessert Café falls below the radar of many San Franciscans due to its proximity to Fisherman’s Wharf, but is well worth a stop at any time of year for homemade ice cream, cookies, cakes, and other sweets, all presented in small portions so as not to induce guilt. Proprietors Dennis and Eloise Leung are having fun this season with three items inspired by All Hallows’ Eve. Their triple pumpkin ice cream is made with Dogfish Head Pumpkin Ale, candied pumpkin seed, and pumpkin puree. A “bloody berry bar” has a chocolate pine nut crust and a raspberry lemon custard on top. And there’s also a pumpkin cupcake for the 21 and over set, garnished with a maple bourbon frosting and candied bacon bits.

Fillmore Bakeshop’s psychedelic pumpkin Photo: Tamara Palmer)

When we stopped by Fillmore Bakeshop, Elena Basagio-Carpenter (who runs the place with her father Doug Basagio) was still figuring out a number of Halloween-themed items, her experiments in chocolate slowed due to our stretch of Indian Summer. Offerings include a pumpkin macaron, a crisped rice pumpkin with a caramel stem, dried fruit bark, and some incredibly psychedelic hollow chocolate pumpkins filled with fresh chocolate truffles.

Humphry Slocombe’s Bad-Ass Pumpkin Pie Sundae. Photo courtesy of Humphry Slocombe

Fans of Humphry Slocombe would probably not be surprised to learn that Jake Godby’s ice cream shop takes Halloween very seriously, with flavors firmly geared to adults both in their ingredient combinations and the pop culture references that some of them make. Spiders from Mars, for example, has a milk chocolate ice cream base that’s sprinkled with “spider webs” made from meringue. Rosemary’s Baby gets a boost from fresh rosemary and a pine nut swirl. The bloody red Hibiscus sorbet is known for the moment as O-Negative. Meanwhile, there’s a Candy Apple flavor (apple ice cream with caramel swirl), the Devil’s Deal (house made red velvet cake in a cream cheese ice cream base), and pumpkin ice cream, which gets a sophisticated twist with the inclusions of Chinese five spice: Star anise, fennel seed, Szechuan peppercorn, cinnamon, and clove. The latter also goes into their Bad-Ass Pumpkin Pie Sundae, crowned with hot butterscotch sauce, cinnamon whipped cream, and house made pie crumble.

The best part of all? You don’t need to wait until Halloween to get your fill of the holiday.

You could set your watch by it, my mad love affair every autumn with all things squash-y and pumpkin-ish. A few weeks ago, I was kneading up pumpkin bread; this morning, mixing up a batch of rice-flour pumpkin muffins for a grateful wheat-free friend. The kids are carving their pumpkins out on the porch, and I'm planning for tomorrow's dinner, a grand stew served out of a stunning Rouge Vif d'Etampes pumpkin, the flattish, deeply indented beauty, as flaming red-gold as Joan's burnished tresses on Mad Men. It's also known as the Cinderella pumpkin, with good reason, since it seems to lack only six white mice to pull it straight into fairy godmother-land.

It's a little more dainty, if not quite so dramatic, to serve your pumpkin stew or soup in individual, bowl-sized pumpkins rather than one huge one, I'll admit. Whichever you use, prep them like you're getting ready to entertain the trick-or-treaters: saw out a generous circle around the top, reach in and scoop out what you can of the stringy, seedy stuff, and set it aside. Then, get a big metal soup spoon, and scrape out all the remaining stringy bits.

Separate the seeds from the pumpkin innards, and rinse the seeds well. Pat dry, then spread out on a baking sheet. Toss with enough olive or vegetable oil to coat lightly, then sprinkle with salt and paprika, smoked paprika, or chili powder, adding in a little cayenne if you like. Bake at 325 F until crisp and toasty, about 15 to 20 minutes. These are great for snacking, naturally, and also make a nice garnish.

(If you have backyard chickens, toss them the pumpkin guts and any stray raw seeds that escaped the pick-through. They'll snaffle them up like candy corn.)

But we're getting distracted here from the main event. To prep your pumpkins, put your big (or your little pumpkins) and their tops on a baking sheet covered with parchment or foil. Rub a little vegetable oil over the flesh. Bake for 25 minutes. Remove top(s), turn pumpkins bottom side up, and continue baking for another 25-35 minutes, depending on size, until flesh is tender but firm and pumpkin still holds its shape. It's important not to wander off during this time, as the pumpkin shells will collapse if they're overbaked.

Now, what do you want to put in your pumpkins? If you're going to all the trouble of scooping and baking these babies, what's in them should be the main course, I believe. Which means something rich and stew-like, not the usual pashmina-smooth, curried or apple-y bisques. In the Bay Area, the skeletons and jack o' lanterns of Halloween are always interwoven with the sugar skulls and marigold-strewn altars of the Mexican Day of the Dead.

So why not use goat as a base for this stew, a traditional meat for the latter--and, with their spooky eyes and devilish implications, a perfectly haunting choice for Halloween, too. Halal meat counters and Latino markets are good places to find goat; you can also find it at Marin Sun Farms' butcher shop in Rockridge Market Hall. You could also substitute lamb.

Happy Halloween!

Halloween Pumpkin Stew
If you're going to serve this in one large pumpkin or squash, make sure you pick out a good eating one, such as a rouge vif d'etamps or a musquee de provence. Both are wider than they are tall, an important consideration. Make sure the one you pick will fit in your oven before you start.

Serves: 6

Ingredients:
1 large, shallow pumpkin or squash, or 6 small bowl-sized pumpkins, prepared and baked as above
2 1/2 lbs goat or lamb, cubed
2 tbsp flour
1 tsp chipotle powder or smoked paprika
1/2 tsp salt
2 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, peeled and diced
3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
2 carrots, peeled and diced
2 celery stalks, diced
1 tsp thyme or oregano
1 bay leaf
1 cup red wine
2 dried ancho chilies, soaked in hot water until soft, seeds and stems removed, pureed in a little hot water until smooth, or 2-3 canned chiles in adobo, finely chopped
1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes (I use Muir Glen's fire-roasted organic tomatoes)
Roasted pumpkin seeds, for garnish

Preparation:
1. Toss flour, paprika, and salt together, and spread out on a wide, shallow plate. Roll goat or lamb cubes through flour mixture to coat.

2. In a heavy Dutch oven or wide, heavy saucepan, heat olive oil. Add meat in batches, browning on all sides over medium-high heat. Remove and set aside.

3. When meat has been cooked, add onions, garlic, celery, and carrot. Reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring frequently, until softened but not browned. Return meat to pot.

4. Pour red wine over meat and vegetables. Add chiles, diced tomatoes, and thyme or oregano. Add water if necessary so that liquid comes half-way meat and vegetable mixture.

5. Bring mixture to a simmer, reduce heat, and cover. Cook slowly, stirring occasionally, until meat is tender and liquid is reduced, about 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Taste for seasoning, and add salt and pepper as needed.

6. Preheat oven to 350 F. Pour stew into prepared pumpkin(s). Bake for 30-40 minutes, until pumpkin flesh is tender and stew has thickened a bit. Taste for seasoning. Remove from oven carefully, since it will be hot and heavy. Replace lid and bring to the table.

7. Pass pumpkin seeds at the table for garnish. Scoop out a portion of cooked pumpkin with each serving, being careful not to pierce the skin.

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.

Pumpkin pie is the quintessential Thanksgiving dessert. Most people eat it just once a year, and that's after first gorging themselves on turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, and about ten other side dishes. Yet more often than not I hear people say they'll take only a "sliver" of pumpkin pie, saving any available room for the other desserts. Sure, we serve pumpkin pie each November, but mostly because it's become obligatory: an expected holiday staple very few get excited about.

But pumpkin pie can be more than the standard fare of pureed pumpkin mixed with cream, sugar, eggs, and spices in a butter or graham cracker crust. I mean, honestly, do we all need to make the same pie every year? So this holiday, after a lifetime of eating traditional pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving, I decided I was in the mood for something a little different. While enjoying some pecan shortbread last week, I started to wonder how it would taste paired with a pumpkin custard. But then my mind began to wander even further from the norm. Why make a regular custard filling when I could use cream cheese? I looked up some pumpkin cheesecake recipes, but most seemed more cheesecake than pumpkin pie, and I wanted to retain the pie's essence for the holiday, so I decided to make up my own concoction.

As I wanted the pie to preserve some traditional flavors, I started with the customary pumpkin puree mixed with eggs, sugar, and cream, along with the conventional spices of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. With my eye on making my pie creamier and richer than in years past, I then mixed in a package of cream cheese that had been whipped with some sugar, more eggs and vanilla. Then, to wake up the palate a bit, I also added in some ginger. Of course I used a pecan shortbread crust, the idea of which started this whole adventure in the first place. Finally, once the cake cooled, I topped it with sour cream that had been flavored with maple syrup simply because I wanted a hint of tartness and sugar to help balance the rich creaminess of the cake.

My new and improved pumpkin dessert was light and silky with a rich Fall flavor that wasn't overwhelming. Using only one package of cream cheese endowed the filling with a velvety sumptuousness that was more fluffy than overwhelmingly cheesy. The pecan crust's nutty and buttery crispness was also the perfect foil for the creamy center. And did I mention that you just press the dough in the pan, which means you don't have to prepare and roll out a crust? I have a feeling this new pumpkin dessert will find a place in my holiday repertoire of desserts, but I'm also open to future experimentation.

Pumpkin Cheesecake with a Pecan Shortbread Crust

Makes: 1 8-inch cake

Ingredients:

Crust
1/2 cup softened unsalted butter
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 cup flour
1/3 cup chopped pecans

Pumpkin Cheesecake Filling
1 8-oz package cream cheese
1/4 cup granulated sugar
4 large eggs
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 15-oz can pureed pumpkin or 2 cups cooked pumpkin
3/4 cups brown sugar
3/4 cup whipping cream
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp salt

Topping
1/2 cup sour cream
2 Tbsp maple syrup
2 Tbsp chopped pecans

Preparation:

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
2. Mix together all ingredients using either the paddle of a mixer or your hands.
3. Press crust into a 9-inch spring-form pan, being sure to make the bottom even and also pressing the edges of the dough about a 1/4 to 1/2 way up the sides of the pan. Set the pan in the refrigerator.
4. In a medium bowl, whip together the pumpkin puree, cream, 2 eggs, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, ginger and salt until fully incorporated.
5. Using a the paddle attachment on your mixer, combine the softened cream cheese, 2 eggs, granulated sugar and vanilla until creamy.
6. Gently add the pumpkin mixture to the cream cheese, being sure not to over mix.
7. Take the crust out of the refrigerator and set the pan on a large baking sheet. Pour the filling into the pan.
8. Place the filled pan (which should still be on the large baking sheet) into the oven for 45 minutes or until the center only slightly jiggles. If the middle shakes like jell-o, leave it in until it sets further.
9. Once the cake has cooled down, mix the sour cream and maple syrup together. Spread the mixture on top of the cake and then sprinkle on the chopped pecans.
10. Refrigerate at least 2 hours or overnight and serve.

This is a family of winter squash, including jack be little pumpkins, delicata and sweet dumplings, carnival, kuri, baby bear pumpkins, butternut, spaghetti squash and a cinderella pumpkin.
Photo by Julia Wiley of Mariquita Farm

Just in case you're wondering: no, you can't recycle last night's only-slightly-scorched jack o' lantern into this morning's pumpkin muffins. Sorry, greenies, into the compost bin it goes.

Why? Well, for starters, it wouldn't taste very good. Pumpkins bred to be big, beautiful, and able to sit on the porch without rotting for weeks on end are not going to be yummy, too. There are only so many characteristics that you can highlight on a gene string, and as far as it goes with pumpkins, you can find a fabulously chunky orange canvas, or you can have one that's dainty and edible. But not both. If it's big enough to carve a vampire face on, it's probably also going to be bland, stringy, and watery. Roast the seeds, yes, but put the rest to rest in your big green bin.

The baker's secret, however, is that even those cute little pumpkins, often sold under the names Sugar Pie or Sugar Pumpkin, are just not all that delicious. Compared to that supermarket workhorse, the beige-skinned butternut, even the cutest pumpkin is all bark, no bite. The butternut is dense and rich-fleshed, wonderful roasted and pureed into soups with apple and sage or a little curry powder and coconut milk. Mashed butternut is what I use for homemade pumpkin pies, pumpkin bread, and pumpkin cookies, and the only difference is how much better it tastes than actual pumpkin.

All these hard-shelled winter squashes are in the same family of cucurbits, anyway, under the same umbrella that shelters melons, cucumbers, summer squash and zucchini. Winter squash get their name not from their growing season (they need 100+ days of warm weather, ripening just at the tail end of summer and then curing on the vines for a few more weeks into early fall) but from their usefulness as a winter staple. Once cured--that is, left in the field or in a cool, airy place for a few weeks--their skin hardens, their curvy stem (a peduncle, for those botantically inclined) dries to almost wood-like firmness, and they can be stored in a cool, dry place with little loss of flavor or texture for months on end. Their only real enemies are warmth and moisture.

But good as butternuts are, there's no reason to stop there. Right now the markets are lavishly stocked with every size and crazy streaked-and-spotted shape of winter squash. There's the delicate delicata, ivory-skinned with green stripes and orange flecks over a pale yellow-peach flesh. You can slice it into narrow half-moons, massage lightly with olive oil and bake until tender. The thin skin is edible to all but the most fastidious. For those folks, cut the squash in half lengthwise, scrape out the seeds and strings, and fill with an autumnal bread or wild-rice stuffing. Bake until squash is fork-tender and filling has browned and crisped.

There are other variations on the delicata, like the dumpling squash, shaped like an oversized popover and perfect for stuffing.

The squarish, dark green buttercup squash is for those who like their squash dry and nutty, tasting like a cross between roasted chestnuts and baked sweet potato. In their Ladybug newsletters, Andy and Julia of Mariquita Farm have sung the praises of two big beige squash, the plump, round-cheeked Long Island cheese pumpkin and the deeply grooved, deep-orange fleshed Musquee de Provence squash, also called the Fairytale pumpkin for its Cinderella-coach shape.

Although, if I were a mouse looking for glamor, I'd hitch myself to a Rouge Vif d'Etampes pumpkin and wait for the fairy godmother to descend. This is the most glamorous squash of all, vivid orange-red, huge and elegantly grooved. If you've ever wanted to make a pumpkin soup and serve it in a pumpkin, this is the one you want. Not surprisingly, given its shape and its tongue-twisting French name, it's often called the Cinderella pumpkin. Carved out, it also makes a striking ice bucket for an autumn brunch.

But my favorite remains a tricky-to-find recent hybrid, the Sunshine kabocha. Bright orange skinned, it's easy to confuse with the Red Kuri, but once tasted, it can't be mistaken for anything but its amazingly delectable self. Oh, all right, I'll admit it: roasted, it tastes like chicken. Or, even better, like the incredibly savory drippings left at the bottom of the pan after you roast a chicken. Trust me: if you think you don't like squash because you've only ever eaten those bland and pasty little baked acorn squash, you owe it your tastebuds to seek out--or grow--a Sunshine kabocha. A plain old kabocha is pretty good, too, sweet and nutty, but the Sunshine variety is just nubbly orange heaven.

Once you've done something virtuously savory with your roasted squash--soup, a suave puree--then it's time for a few treats. Squash, like applesauce, adds moisture without fat to baked goods, and it seems everyone turns out a loaf or two of low-fat pumpkin bread this time of year.

Then again, we are moving into hibernation weather and a holiday mood. At least once this month, follow the lead of Alameda home baker Steven Mounce and get every Peter Pumpkin Eater at your table moaning with pleasure over this lush pumpkin bread pudding. Trust Mounce: a man with the word "homemade" tattooed on his knuckles knows what you want.

Pumpkin Bread Pudding
Serves 6-8
Did you know that canned pumpkin is rarely actual pumpkin, but rather butternut or other winter squash? Whatever you call it, plain canned pumpkin is always a handy staple, since it can be used in both sweet and savory dishes. Of course, you can also roast and mash your own for this gorgeously warming centerpiece for brunch or dessert.

Ingredients:
4 eggs
2 cups half and half
15 oz can pumpkin (not pumpkin pie filling) , or 1 3/4 cups roasted, mashed butternut or kabocha squash
¾ cup brown sugar
3 tablespoons dark molasses
¼ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
¼ teaspoon ground ginger
1 large loaf of French bread, cut into 2" cubes
½ cup walnuts, roughly chopped
¼ cup raisins or dried cranberries
3 tablespoons butter, softened
3 tablespoons brown sugar

Preparation:
1. In a large bowl, whisk eggs, half and half, pumpkin, brown sugar, molasses, salt, and spices together. Add bread cubes to bowl in batches, stirring well between each batch. Add only enough bread to soak up liquid mixture; you may not need all the bread. Let mixture rest for 15 minutes.

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Fill a kettle or pitcher with hot water, and set aside. Lightly grease an 8"x8" glass baking dish. Stir nuts and raisins into bread mixture. Spoon mixtures loosely into baking dish. Do not pack bread mixture into dish. Mound lightly above edge of the dish if necessary.

3. Place glass baking dish into a 13"x9" baking pan. Place both dishes on the center rack of the oven. Pour hot water into larger baking pan to come up halfway on the glass pan. Bake for 30 minutes, until top is golden brown and center is set. While bread pudding is baking, stir together butter and 3 tablespoons brown sugar, and set aside.

4. When pudding is baked, remove glass pan from oven and set on a rack. (Wait to remove water-filled pan until oven has cooled.) Dot with brown sugar mixture, which will melt into a gooey caramel sauce, mmm. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Got a fabulous pumpkin recipe to share? Enter Omnivore Books' pumpkin cooking contest. Everything from soup to muffins considered, as long as the main ingredient is pumpkin. Sat. Nov. 21, 4-5pm.

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.