halloween

Pumpkin Carving in Wonderland: The Cheshire Cat

“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the cat. “We’re all mad here.”

To be clear, this bit of on-brand pumpkin carving is not a design of my own invention, but I liked how it came out so much I wanted to share the results. If you, too, are a fan of Lewis Carroll and would like a mischievous kitten of your own to keep you company during this spooky season, the pattern is here. For those who lack the patience to actually cut out and trace the design onto the squash of their choosing (stares at shoes), it’s also very friendly to freehand sketchers.

Now, when I was a kid my dad would make me an ingenious pumpkin carving tool of his own invention out of a piece of saw blade screwed into a stump of dowel rod. (Well, I think it was his own invention. My dad and I “invented” a lot of things it turned out later others were already on to, but that never let the air out of our tires!) Anyway, this petite saw-knife was a brilliant way to slice out detailed designs with minimal blood, sweat, and tears. The cheap plastic Pumpkin Masters Pumpkin Carving Kit I spotted on sale at Rite Aid for $2 made it through the job this year (though barely) but I do recommend sourcing a blade with a little more nuance than a steak knife (my otherwise normal default). I don’t know what they are feeding the pumpkins in the patch this year, but they are beasts–thick walled and not messing around.

The neighborhood pumpkin carving contest broke up before all the monsters were complete, but I think Wonderland’s Cheshire Cat is at least still a contender. Now, when is It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown going to be broadcast this year?

UPDATE!: Dad has unearthed our original, ground-breaking precision pumpkin carving tool!

We’re Under Siege! (Popcorn Edition)

October 29, 2011 By Molly In eat me, snacks

I think it was when the seventh kernel flew past my face and ricocheted off the stove top that I began to wonder if anyone was supposed to really strip down these dried cobs and actually pop this corn. I mean, they sure were cute sitting in that barrel at the pumpkin patch, and all the kids were definitely excited. But perhaps all those moms beside me knew to dispose of this old-world treat as soon as they got home. Because seriously, this was one step worse than shelling old peas.

Eventually, it either got easier or I got better at it. I worked out a system where I would clear a row up the cob and then flick out all the kernels in the row to the left with the side of my thumb. Then I’d work my way around the cob and repeat. It worked, more or less, but I’m not sure I’ll be motivated to do it again unless this turns out to be the Best. Popcorn. Ever.

Pffff. Microwave popcorn. I don’t think so. It’s way more fun to drag out the stockpot before Friday night movies knowing that you’ll have to wash a stockpot splattered in congealed oil in the cold Saturday morning light. Am I right?

So, no one probably needs a “recipe” for stovetop popcorn, though it occurs to me that I’d need instructions for using a microwave to do it, so I don’t want to be a snot either. I netted about 2/3 cup of kernels, so I poured about 4 T of cooking oil and the corn in my 8 qt. stock pot and heated over medium. I keep the lid vented just a crack and shake the kennels around every so often to avoid burning. In “a watched pot never boils” fashion, it may seem to take a while until you hear that first pop, but you should watch it and eventually things will take off. Once the percussive fun subsides, remove from heat and toss the light and airy popped kernels with seasonings of your choice.

I used to be pretty faithful to a salt/sugar mix, but this being Maryland, I was inspired to try some Old Bay seasoning and salt this time. I didn’t feel like my seasonings were sticking well and I didn’t feel like melting butter, so when I spied that can of olive oil spray on the counter, I went to town like it was a can of Aqua-Net on prom night. Problem solved. It wasn’t the best popcorn ever, but it sure was an experience–with unpopped souvenir kernels now hidden in unlikely places all over the kitchen.