“As American as pumpkin pie.” An interesting thing to say about our relationship to a squash. Certainly, the ingredients are a melting pot of pumpkin, ginger, sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, milk, cloves, eggs, and, of course, a pie crust made with lard. But, “as American as pumpkin pie”? That’s a lot of pressure to put on a wanna-be vegetable that is stuck being a fruit.
Sure, most pumpkins you meet are low-to-the-ground, rotund, and not very dynamic personally. But they are certainly jolly. The very image of a pumpkin can make you smile. Pumpkins are like cute animal videos, but instead of a dog opening a door or a cat flushing a toilet, the pumpkin wows you with its preposterousness.
Yup, preposterousness. Pumpkins are constantly performing slapstick without any physical movement. They exist at the edges of reality. Look at them. They look like aliens. The fun-uncle kind.
And that isn’t the end of their story. Big or little, round or misshapen, bright orange or pale yellow, pumpkins have a certain gravitas. They have grown into their environment and have adapted and changed to conform to the very ground under their feet. A stone is in the way? No matter. They grow around it. Quite a trick when you’re really not that far up the food chain.
Ah, but this doesn’t answer the question — how American is pumpkin pie?
Kate Colquhoun, author of “Taste: The Story of Britain Through Its Cooking,” said in an article in the New York Times several years ago:
“While the English hung on to their pudding with steadily decreasing enthusiasm for centuries, they let go another great Elizabethan favorite that might have had more staying power: pumpkin pie. First introduced to Tudor England by the French, the flesh of the ‘pompion’ was quickly accepted as a pie filler. However, while pumpkin pie sailed with the Pilgrims back to the birthplace of its main ingredient — where it survived in more or less its original form — it all but disappeared in its country of origin.”
Pumpkins are home grown, folks. And a pumpkin pie recipe was brought over by the Pilgrims themselves. Perhaps this is why we love pumpkin pie. And, make no mistake, we do love pumpkin pie.
“I come from a bakery family. My dad owned a bakery in Marshalltown. I started working with him when I was 15. I have worked in the bakery business for 37 years. And I’m 52 years old. That’s a long time.”
Dave Kelderman, the bakery manager at the Hy Vee on Douglas Avenue in Urbandale, gives me a tired smile. A post-Thanksgiving smile.
“We sell a lot of pumpkin pie here. We sold hundreds of pumpkin pies Thanksgiving week.”
My goodness. Baking must be your life.
“I’ve been managing bakeries since I was 22. You know what? I swore I’d never do this for a living. I was going to be a rock star, but the hair went and so did being a rock star.”
We both pause to contemplate our bald heads and lost dreams due to hair loss.
Is there a secret to pumpkin pie?
“I make pumpkin pies from scratch. We use the same recipe I’ve been using for 30 years now. I couldn’t tell you exactly where it came from, but it’s the best pumpkin pie I’ve ever had. Better than mom’s.”
Kelderman leans into me smiling.
“I never told mom that while she was alive. Now that she’s gone, I can say it out loud.”
Kelderman then gives me a large meaty handshake, a broad friendly smile, and back to work he goes. Goodness, there IS a friendly smile in every aisle.
Okay, clearly pumpkin pie is all-American, it is loved and it is lovable. So, it is fair to use the phrase that something is “as American as pumpkin pie.” Great.
The only obvious question remaining — can pumpkin pie consumption reveal who is a true American? Of course, in this time of presidential caucuses, this is an important concern. No candidate has addressed this pumpkin pie issue. Sure, many have said who is welcome in this country and who is not. Even our own governor has banned a whole group of people from entering our state based on their place of origin. But these are just irrational shots in the dark. Is pumpkin pie consumption the litmus test we’ve been waiting for?
Who knows.
Although, I haven’t even mentioned the divisive issue of whip cream, which, when put on your pie, is as American as pumpkin pie. Obviously.
Joe
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By the way, if you’re not totally sick of pumpkin pie, Peggy Baker, the Director and Librarian from the Pilgrim Society, published the following recipe from The Compleat Cook; London: printed for Nathaniel Brook, 1671, found on the website for the Pilgrim Hall Museum. It is an example of a recipe from a cookbook used by the early Pilgrims.
Pumpion Pie
Take about half a pound of Pumpion and slice it, a handfull of tyme, a little rosemary, parsley and sweet marjorum slipped off the stalks, and chop them small, then take the cynamon, nutmeg, pepper and six cloves, and beat them, take ten eggs and beat them, then mix them and beat them all together and put in as much sugar as you think fit, then fry them like a froize*, after it is fryed, let it stand till it be cold, then fill your pye, take sliced apples thinne round wayes, and lay a rowe of the froize, and layer the apples with currents betwixt the layer while your pye is fitted, and put in a good deal of sweet Butter before you close it, when pye is baked, take six yelks of eggs, some whitewine or vergis*, and make a caudle* of this, but not too thick, cut up the lid and put it in, stir them well together whilst the eggs and pumpions be not perceived and so serve it up.
*froize = a kind of pancake or omelet
*vergis = verjuice, juice from unripened grapes or from crab apples or other sour fruit *caudle = a warm spiced and sugared drink