How to Roast a Small Pumpkin

Don't.

The end.

HaHaHahahahahaHahaHaha... (hysterical, edge-of-sanity laughter continues for quite awhile).

I like roasted veggies and fruits. I've roasted just about everything that can be roasted, to mostly good results (except for the watermelon incident. Who knew?).

So when I saw the little pumpkin pie pumpkins at Trader Joe's, they seemed like a natural for roasting. Sturdy, not real watery, and they can be prepared either savory or sweet. Sounded good. I bought two. Mind you, these were not the little decorative gourds that look like little bitty pumpkins. These were pumpkins for cooking. The big, jack-o-lantern pumpkins can be cooked, too, but they can be a little tough. These little pumpkins, though, are supposed to be excellent for cooking. I've got a checkered past when it comes to cooking, so, just to be sure, I asked the cashier, and she confirmed that these were cooking pumpkins. When I got home, I called my aunt, a veteran in the kitchen, and she agreed that I had a great idea in roasting these little pumpkins.

However, I was still a little nervous about this new endeavor, so I put it off for a week or two. When I went to do the deed, one of the little pumpkins had rotted and completely collapsed. Ewwww. The other was just fine, though. Well, I waited another week, checking the remaining pumpkin daily for firmness, and it was always fine.

So tonight I finally set out to roast this little pumpkin. It was about maybe eight inches in diameter. I may have never roasted a pumpkin before, but I have carved many a Halloween jack-o-lantern, so I got a good knife, and set to work. I sawed, I attempted to stab, I hacked, all to no avail. The shell on this thing was like iron.

I went to the Internet. Can this, in fact, be done? I asked it. Yep. I went to a site that showed the pumpkin cut into rings--horizontally--which hadn't occurred to me before. The recipe said “Prep time: 10 minutes.” I went back and reapplied myself to that pumpkin with a new vigor. But my family has a long, dark tradition of horrible accidents involving kitchen knives, and I became truly fearful that I was going to injure myself. I went back to the Internet. Did it mention anything about a chainsaw? About softening the pumpkin by soaking it in lye for 24 hours first? No. It merely said, “Cut pumpkin into rings of about one inch thickness....” It might just as well have said to cut through a coconut. Using only a sharp rock and your teeth. This pumpkin was impossible. I had managed to penetrate it with two one-inch stab wounds, which gave me the idea that, now that I'd managed to vent the pumpkin, I could try roasting it whole for awhile to soften it. At least, with those two narrow cuts in it, it wouldn't (I hoped) explode in the oven, which I set on 450 and inserted the pumpkin into for a good 45 minutes.

After letting it cool for quite awhile, I carved the stem out so that I could scoop out the steaming insides. This was much easier done this time, so I had great hopes that I had outsmarted this simple gourd.

But no. When I went to trim it into one-inch-thick rings, I once again had to saw and saw—so vigorously that I again could envision one slip of the knife taking me down a notch on the evolutionary scale. Again, I chopped, I hacked, I stabbed and cut and sliced. The inside was soft enough, but the outer shell was like a clam shell. Ten minutes! Ha! After almost 30 minutes, I was finally done, soaked in sweat and covered with pumpkin slime. I sopped up water, stray seeds, and blood. My back was killing me, but I took the time to sprinkle some herbs and spices on my mangled bits of pumpkin, put the whole mess into the oven, and then went to crash on the couch while it roasted.

I once again let it cool after it was well roasted. I just ate some. It has to be eaten like oysters on the half shell, scooped out of its hard little shell “cups” with the teeth. I wish I could say that it is well worth the struggle. It's okay, but it could be improved upon. If I can work up the strength to do it again.