I wasn’t exaggerating… I really did buy 6 small sugar pumpkins last week. What was I supposed to do? They were on sale and staring up at me all orange and adorable. And despite the fact that I’m moving, and despite the fact that all the pumpkin I pureed and froze last year only got used up last week, I unequivocally do not regret this purchase. And yes, I will be importing Oregon pumpkin to Kansas Thanksgiving. I figure this will make my pie exceptionally exotic, even if it defies the locavore within.
Though not exactly exotic, Thanksgiving is pretty much my favorite holiday. (Partly because I loathe Christmas carols… Sorry if this offends you. I just can’t muster the love for them.) Anyhow, my mass of a family gathers in Kansas every year, and it is truly a mass - both my mother and my father’s extended ancestry crunched into one very small prairie town. The slow, meandering Midwestern pace is all but lost for these 72 hours of feasting.
As for the Boyts meal, I got assigned dessert this year. Which means pumpkin pie. Clearly.