This time of year, I often feel like Linus in the “Peanuts” comic strip – a solitary figure yearning for someone dear to share my devotion to pumpkin.
You’ll remember that Linus waited faithfully for The Great Pumpkin to appear in his most sincere pumpkin patch and deliver toys on Halloween night, but that his friends didn’t believe in that friendly autumnal specter and went trick-or-treating instead.
I understand Linus’ disappointment. No one in my family cares for pumpkin, except me. I have to bypass most of those Great Pumpkin recipes or plan to consume them myself.
Which I certainly would do, but not admit it. Not even in this space.
So, I make a few loaves of pumpkin bread or a couple dozen muffins and ration them out for breakfast or afternoon snacks between late September and Thanksgiving.
I’ll bake a pumpkin pie for the holidays, when my circle of pumpkin-loving family and friends expands, and we raise a glass of pumpkin ale and salute our lovely cinnamon and nutmeg-laced pastry: All hail you Great Squash/Gourd, we remain faithful fans.
