Last week we took our kids pumpkin picking. As we boarded the hay ride nothing could shake the smile off their faces. The smell of hay and harvest filled the air. When we arrived at the pumpkin patch they were set free to roam the fields in search of the perfect pumpkin. They all chose ones that were too much for them to carry, but they tried with all their might.
It's the simplest of traditions but one that they look forward to every year.
Their prized pumpkins have decorated our front porch with their warm, inviting colors ever since, until this week when they finally begged me to cut one open.
I wrapped myself in my apron and set to work.
I sliced one in half and scooped out the pulp. My boys dove right in separating the seeds from the slimy strings of pulp. My girly girl was rather repulsed by the whole thing and waited for the end result.
We rinsed the seeds and spread them out on a baking sheet to dry. Then I baked the rest of the pumpkin and the smell of autumn filled my house.
Once it was tender I scooped out the shells and pureed it for a week's worth of special treats.
The seeds were salted and roasted and snacked on while I fried up some cinnamon-sugar pumpkin donuts.
The next morning our pumpkin treated us to muffins. Today we baked up some cinnamon chip pumpkin cookies.
It is amazing how a humble squash can give so much and bring every bit of the season into our home.
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