Okay, it's as bad as it sounds: cheese pumpkin, like the name of a band that's just trying to be weird by putting two different words together in a gross way. But it was part of our farm share, along with other large and frightening winter squashes, like kabocha and hubbard, and so we took it, and so I spent the better part of the afternoon covered in flour and pumpkin guts turning it into something like empanadas with leeks and thyme and cheese--and yes, they were fine, but believe me: you wouldn't have missed the cheese pumpkin. The kids pressed them flat with their fingers and then finally choked them down but were not buying the whole "pumpkin pie" thing I tried Polyannaing on their small and sorry squash-eating selves. Plus, worse, there is still half of a seeded, peeled cheese pumpkin in my fridge to be turned into--what? Cheese pumpkin relish? Cheese pumpkin meatloaf?
That's why I have no energy to write. I blame the cheese pumpkin. But I wanted to say that wondertime is doing something a little funky with its links--to be fixed soon--but this week's column is here.
You should be able to link to last week's from there--by clicking on last week's date in that right-hand column. I really appreciate you taking the time to look. What with all the eggnog waiting to be drunk. Or "egg mog" as Birdy calls it. Cheese pumpkin nog! Cheese pumpkin Chex mix! Sigh.