A Cantabrigian Thanksgiving, retrospective continued.
They laughed at the mention of pumpkin pie. A sweetened squash pie? What is that?! The same attitude primes the supermarkets to be prominently lacking of pumpkin-in-a-can and frozen pumpkin in Cambridge. I searched far and wide and, to my dismay, found neither. There were only fresh pumpkins, and even these were leftovers from Halloween, which is the only time where pumpkin pie is deemed "appropriate" in the local frame of reference.
Above all, some even took this further: by telling me that pumpkins are not for eating, only decoration, i.e. the carving of Jack o' Lanterns. I begged to differ, and engaged in discourse about the varieties of pumpkins, and how some are selected for carving, e.g. the large, watery-fleshed ones classically grown for carving and their seeds, and others, e.g. the small, round sugar pumpkins, are meant for eating. Elaborating that pumpkin can be prepared savory, e.g. in soups and raviolis, or sweet, as in pumpkin pie, precipitated blank stares.
Unfortunately for most of my friends in Cambridge, the poor example at Downing's Formal Hall was the first pumpkin pie that they had ever had. This immediately made clear to me that I had to intervene. The intervention serves a triple purpose: 1) I crave pumpkin pie, 2) I was remiss in the complete absence of pumpkin pie on Turkey Day, and 3) I had to prove that pumpkin pie is, in fact, *good*. Thus, I embarked on my mission to make pumpkin pie in Cantabrigia.
Exacerbating the challenge that many of my fellow Cantabrigians had for pumpkin pie was the fact that I was seeking canned pumpkin to make said pie. Most of them scoffed at the very idea of canned pumpkin. I believe they were reacting to their general unfamiliarity with eating pumpkins and the fact that canned vegetables are usually unpalatable. In their view, it is nothing short of ridiculous that I would look for something both strange and assumed-to-be unpalatable, let alone advocate for the wonders of a pie made from this stuff. I promised to change their minds, even potentially to change their lives with *good* pumpkin pie.
Fortunately, I had foresight and purchased a sugar pumpkin right after Halloween. I steamed, mashed, and froze it in anticipation of my craving for pumpkin. I even tried to roasting the seeds, though I literally burnt them to cinders because I was engrossed in an episode of Battle Star Gallactica when I was doing this. That aside, the frozen pumpkin did the trick -- not did it spare my friends from the horrors of canned vegetables, but provided the necessary ingredient to make what I believe to be one of the best pies on earth.
To change their minds, I posted a general message on Facebook about the availability of pumpkin pie, and made a small party of it. Seven people came over to St. Peter's Terrace, where my flat is, and tasted the thing. To their surprised, they found the juxtaposition of a smooth, spiced, almost-custard-like pumpkin filling with a delicately constructed fine-crumbed crust "very good," if not "delicious." Though I am unsure if my friends are convinced about the goodness of pumpkin, I hope I drove home the message that pumpkin pie, at the very least, is great stuff.
Lastly, as many furrowed brows as I may have received from seeking the whereabouts of canned pumpkin in England, I certainly raised brows by pointing out that I *did* find canned pumpkin in England. Not only did I find it, but it was in the pantheon of luxury goods at Harrod's, one of the most reputable, high-brow, snooty, overly expensive, extravagant stores in Her Majesty's kingdom.
Canned pumpkin is a luxury by virtue of its place in the Harrod's pantheon.
The proof is in the pudding -- a can of pumpkin in the US is often a little more than a dollar. It often goes on sale for 99¢ around Thanksgiving. But, the apotheosis of canned pumpkin, i.e. when it has a place in the shelves of Harrod's, makes its price inaccessibly high. In this light, one needs to ask if canned pumpkin is actually ambrosia, food of the gods? I see a very strong case for this being the case. Food for thought.
Here's how I made my pie:
1 9" pie plate lined with an all-butter crust*, chilled
preheat oven at 425ºF (218ºC)
Pie Filling:
1/2 cup demerara or brown sugar
1/3 cup white granulated sugar
1 generous tsp. mixed spices (in its absence, use 1 tsp. cinnamon, a pinch of cloves, and 1 pinch of nutmeg)
1/4 tsp. ground ginger
1 1/2 cup double cream (or "heavy cream" in the American vernacular)
4 egg yolks
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/4 cup of pumpkin puree (or 1 can of pumpkin)
1 cup double cream (very cold)
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp granulated sugar
whisk these until you get soft peaks when lifting up your fork/whisk from the mixture.
Whisk yolks with sugars until smooth. Then add spices and other solids, mixing until evenly distributed. Finally, add the liquids, mixing until smooth. Pour into chilled crust. Bake for 15 minutes, then lower temperature down to 325ºF (163ºC) for 30-35 minutes, or when the center of the pie is set. Take out of the oven, and let rest for at least 30 minutes before serving. Serve with whipped cream (may be substituted with vanilla ice cream, or maple, cinnamon, butter pecan, caramel or other vanilla-based flavoured ice cream).
*I made the crust with 1 1/2 cups of flour, 1/2 tsp salt, 1 tsp sugar, 1/4 tsp mixed spices, ~400g butter, and 5-7 tsp cold water. I used a fork to "cut" the butter into the flour mixture, until it resembled a course oat meal. Then I added water, little by little, until the dough stuck together. I wrapped it in plastic wrap, and left it to rest in the fridge for about 30 minutes before rolling it out to 1/4" thickness to line the pie plate.
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