Pumpkin Fanaticism

So, it’s October, and once again you can’t manoeuvre around a supermarket without being poked in the arse by broomstick-wielding children. Oversized bags of funsize chocolate bars become an obligatory feature in your trolley, and grandmas all over the world are gearing up to what is, if my parents are to be believed, the scariest night of the year for even our olders and betters.

The Halloween hysteria is starting to take Britain by storm, modelled closely on America’s most outrageous holiday. Call it an an excuse for women to dress like sluts, or an excuse for children to gorge on candy chocolate – either way it seems to be here to stay.

But in the middle of the sweet-snatching madness, there is one being that is sadly forgotten, cruelly cast aside like a Christmas puppy. Ladies and gentlemen, I present the humble pumpkin.

I buried my beloved orange friend two days ago. When I say buried, I mean I dropped him into the wheelie bin and left him there to continue getting mouldy. In all honesty, he was in a disgusting, slightly green, state.

Treated like no other vegetable – or fruit, for that matter – the pumpkin is only popular for a few weeks. For one month they’ll overflow from greengrocers’ shelves, highlight floral displays in flower shops and, of course, house tealight candles. But come 1 November, nobody loves a pumpkin.

If there’s one (more) thing we can learn about Halloween from the Americans, it’s how to do pumpkins – roast pumpkin,  pumpkin pie, pumpkin soup and God-knows-what-pumpkin-else. Thankfully, Waitrose is now stocking giants – their Sumo pumpkins can weigh up to 40kg, the same weight as your average 12-year-old boy. A big, round, orange 12-year-old boy.

Personally, I don’t have the time or energy to slave over a stove desperately trying to puree vegetables. For me, the pumpkin is all about the carving. Although originally used to invite the spirits of the dead into homes, the pumpkin’s modern purpose is much less creepy: keeping the kids – or the young at heart – occupied for half an hour. Stick a knife in my hand and an hour later you’ll have a badly carved cat’s face. Or, like my latest attempt, an ‘abstract’ table lamp.

Lazy it may be, but using them as ornaments and lights works. I’ve found that in this month, where I shop is based on the store’s pumpkin-to-product ratio. It was until I heard myself saying ‘No, I don’t care if this florist is cheaper, that one has pumpkins in the window. Look at them! All bright and cheery. It’s much better’ that I realised I had a problem.

So maybe being a fanatic isn’t the way forward. Cook it, carve it, or outright ignore it – but remember, a pumpkin’s for autumn, not just for Halloween.

Image by Muffet courtesy of Flickr