Monday, November 4, 2013

Pumpkin. It's what's for Dinner. And also Witch Pie.

I didn't get a SINGLE trick or treater or Halloween. Not. A. Single. One. 

To be fair, it was raining pretty hard. And it was dark. And we live on 12 acres of unlit field. So. I remain gutted, but pragmatically so. 

Obviously the day after Halloween was the first of November (RABBIT RABBIT, everyone!) and I always feel like that automatically puts Halloween in the past. You know, new month, out with the old, etc. 

HOWEVER. Much like the fat lady signaling the end, Halloween hasn't been Halloween-ed until I watch Hocus Pocus. (I know most of you will agree when I say that this is, hands down, the best Halloween movie ever made.) Even though it was November 1st (again, Rabbit Rabbit) I decided that we would celebrate Halloween on Friday night, complete with the aforementioned film, pumpkin-based dinner, and Witch Pie.  

And with that in mind. 

PUMPKIN, CHORIZO, AND KALE FRITTATA


The fun thing about Donna Hay magazine is that, being Australian, the seasons are reversed. So you can pick up a back issue of it (August in this case) like I did last week, and go "oh look! warming pumpkin recipes!" 


The fun thing about a frittata recipe is that you can adjust for ingredients and size fairly easily. I scaled this one down a bit, swapped out veggie sausages for chorizo, seasoned my pumpkin with herbs, and used caramelised onions instead of the called-for caramelised onion relish. I also finished it under the broiler, which cuts the cooking time down considerably.




INGREDIENTS
  • 1 small pumpkin, peeled, scraped clean, chopped
  • 1-2 tbs each of torn sage leaves, rosemary, and thyme
  • salt and pepper
  • 2 chorizo (mine were vegetarian) sliced into 1/2 inch-thick pieces
  • 2 tbs olive oil
  • 2 small yellow onions, chopped
  • 1 small bunch kale, stem removes, torn into pieces
  • 1/4 cup crumbled goat cheese
  • 6 eggs, beaten

In a bowl, toss the pumpkin with olive oil, salt, pepper, and the herbs. Spread it out on a foil lined baking sheet and roast at 450 degrees for about 15 minutes until the pumpkin is just tender (it will cook in the frittata). Combine with the sliced sausage. Set aside. 

Heat the olive oil in a large shallow skillet and add the onion, salt, and pepper. Cook for about 7 minutes until it's soft and fragrant, then add the torn kale and cook for about 3 minutes more until the kale is just starting to wilt. Add the sausage and pumpkin mixture and stir a few times to get everything evenly spread out. 

Trying to distribute evenly, pour the beaten eggs over the whole thing. Tilt the pan a few times to let the egg fill in the empty areas, and use a spatula to distribute as best you can, but don't make yourself crazy. Sprinkle the goat cheese on top and let it cook on the burner for about 3 minutes longer before putting it under the broiler (I did it at 400) for 15 minutes or until brown and crispy. 


BEETLE NOTES

Non-dessert-baked pumpkin is delicious and a great alternative to squash if you've over-indulged ('tis the season after all). It's a bit firmer in texture and so withstands a lot of cooking where squash would disintegrate. Because it's a little sweeter, too, it pairs well with strong or bitter or savoury flavours that might overpower your average Butternut.

I deliberately kept the egg-to-filling ratio pretty low here, with only 6 eggs, because I wanted them to be more of a binder than a taste. To make it eggier and fluffier, go up to 8 or 9 eggs, and instead of broiling, bake it at 350 for about 30 minutes. 

Beetle Note that if you are using actual sausage and not the soy-protein kind, Donna Hay indicates to bake it with the pumpkin, thereby avoiding death by e-coli. 


WITCH PIE (that is to say . . . Apple Blackberry Pie and not made of actual Witches)



Two caveats here. I used (gasp!) out of season blackberries and (double gasp!) did not make pie crust from scratch. Stop reading now if you no longer want any part of this, and address angry letters to the editor accordingly. In my defense, The apples and pumpkin were in season. And THEY were purchased from a local organic farm that has been a family-run business for 50 years and grows and picks everything themselves. And making pie crust in a kitchen that already contained a workman half in-half out of the kitchen sink fixing the outside hose connection was just a bit more than I felt up to at the given time. Can we call it square? 

The thing about pies is that once you get over the (made from mix) crust hump, you can throw almost anything in there and it'll work and be good. 

Even witches. Or little boys. Or a toad or two. 

WITCH PIE
  • One double crust pie mix, mixed according to the directions on the back of the box (!!!) and rolled out into two equal size circles. 
  • 3 - 4 large, firm apples, peeled, cored, and sliced 
  • 2 cups blackberries
  • 3/4 cup sugar
  • 1 tsp nutmeg
  • 2 tsp cinnamon
  • 3 tbs lemon juice
  • 4 tbs cold butter, cut into small pieces
  • 2 tbs heavy cream (for crust) 

Lay your first crust out in a 9-inch pie plate, set aside.


Mix the sugar and spices together and toss in a large bowl with the apple slices until they're evenly coated. 


Put half the apple mixture in the bottom pie crust, then half the blackberries, then the rest of the apples, then the rest of the blackberries. 




Sprinkle over with lemon juice and dot with the pieces of butter. 



For the top crust, aka THE WITCH CRUST. 

I'd like to say it's incredibly complicated and that I did it freehand with a blindfold on and that I'd took a course in Artistic Spiritual Pie Crust from a Baking Shaman in the Berkshires somewhere, but sadly . . . no. 

What it is, in all it's scraptastic glory, is a jack-o-lantern template, laid over the rolled out top crust and traced with a paring knife, then (oh so slowly OH SO SLOWLY WITH YOUR BREATH HELD) placed over the top of the pie with the cut out shape inside it. 

Like so:





After that it was just slight adjustments, moving a blackberry a centimetre to the left to support the witch's boot, making sure her broom was adequately placed on an apple slice, etc. 

Trim excess overhang around the pie plate and tuck the crust in to seal around the edges. Brush entire crust including edges lightly with heavy cream. 

Bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes, then turn the oven down to 350 and bake for about 45 minutes more. The final cooking time will depend on what your pie filling is and how much of it is in there. It's done when you can see the inside bubbling and the crust is golden bordering on dark brown. 


Fun story. I sent this picture to my cousin, who showed to her three kids. They were less fascinated by pie crust trickery than by the concept of actual Witch Pie (made by actual witches) and demanded to know what was in it. She told them it was made out of little boys. (What can I say macabre runs in the family.) 

The two older girls are now INSANELY EXCITED for next Halloween, when they plan on baking their own little brother into a pie. And probably eating him. 

Incidentally, Apple Blackberry Pie, witch or no witch, can be enjoyed for breakfast.

Pie for breakfast is a thing. Breakfast Pie. Even the Sanderson Sisters know that. 

And their Breakfast Pie actually IS made out of boys. 




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