Pumpkin Soup Reminiscing

The first time I ever had pumpkin soup was on a prom date. I was a junior, and I was with my senior boyfriend, Steve Hilliker. Not only was Steve a senior, but he was on the swim team, ski club, speech team, and cute and nice, too. I was head over heels for him. He really was my first official love. He was a gentleman. It took me years before I learned to let someone be that nice to me and not get weirded out by it. We played video games at the arcade (Centipede and Galaga, anyone?) and made out like crazed weasels at every opportunity, until he graduated, got a scholarship to West Point and I felt dumped and deserted. (Selfish thinking there.) I am sure he is still a very nice guy. I still think about him, and his very nice family, and wonder what they are doing now, and where they are.

His family once invited me to go out to a special dinner with them. The restaurant was Le Bistro in Stockton (apparently still going strong). Le Bistro was so fancy that Modestans would drive all the way to Stockton to eat there. I had never been to anyplace so fancy. I studied up on Miss Manners, who said to use the silverware from the outside in, and not to order the cheapest or the most expensive dish, but to order something in the middle. I think. I was still petrified about going. My friend Susan Reilly, who had actually eaten there once before, briefed me on the menu: "Just order the pepper steak," she said. She loaned me a dress, too, a truly 80's masterpiece with vertical mint and white stripes, a little round white collar and a pink bow.

There were waiters in long white aprons and an actual wine list that was presented to the host. Big, leather-bound menus that completely hid the person reading them. I think I smiled at Steve from behind mine. I ordered the pepper steak. I used my silverware from the outside in. I think.

Thinking back on that life-changing meal, where I first learned that my table was my domain, I realize that it wasn't that night that I had the pumpkin soup. Or if it was, I don't specifically remember it that night. I just remember the pepper steak, which is damn good if you ever get to try it, and the total awkwardness of being at a fancy restaurant with your boyfriend and his worldly parents. For the prom, Steve took me back to Le Bistro. It was a very grown-up thing to do. I think the waiter might have recognized him and offered him the wine list just to make him feel mature, but he was too nice a guy to actually order from it. Or I made that up. I'm sorry to say that I don't remember the soup on that night either, but we had other things on our minds. Dancing.

So the following year, after Steve went away to college and I ruled the school (ha!), I took my new boyfriend to the prom. As adorable as he was, it wasn't a love thing. It was half rebound, half power trip, half infatuation. (Ok, so I did not major in math.) He was very, very cute, but he was also a freshman, and I was a senior. I was in charge. Of course, I took him to the "only" fine restaurant. I cringe to think of how we must have appeared and acted then, knowing now how much waiters at very nice restaurants adore prom nights.

We went with another couple. All three were younger than me, and not as well-versed in fine dining, compared to my TWO prior experiences. So many cringe-worthy memories are pelting me right now that I can barely keep up. Strawberries speared with too-long dragon lady red fingernails applied especially for prom night. Lots of "shushing" to my dining companions for being too silly. There's more, but it's too embarrassing to speak of.

And the pumpkin soup. The pumpkin soup that would begin an obsession. Creamy, pumpkin-y, strange and delicious. I must have at least ten pumpkin soup recipes in my big cookbook binder. Here is the one that I eventually made up myself. It varies in its incarnations, and I think the best one was one I emailed a couple of years ago and now can't find. Now's the time of year to use it. Football season. Homecoming. Think of boyfriends and chilly, foggy mornings, and fall leaves and sweaters.

Pumpkin Soup

Ingredients
2 cups pumpkin (canned or home-roasted and pureed, or butternut squash, or acorn squash)
1/2 onion finely diced
1 carrot, finely diced
(Carrot and onion are optional-- they give a fuller, sweeter flavor, but if you don't have a stick blender or a regular blender to use to puree the soup, and you don't want weird little bits to chew, you'll have to strain the soup after it cooks. I hate blending, and I hate straining, so I just leave the bits, or cook it long enough that they mush into the soup.)
Butter or olive oil
1 tsp salt
Pepper
3-4 fresh sage leaves, minced
3 cups liquid of your choice. More if you need to stretch it out. I like a mix of mostly chicken stock finished with heavy cream, rather than the other way around. I am sure that the soup at Le Bistro was mostly cream with a bit of pumpkin stirred in. You could use milk, or water and stock, or water and milk or basically whatever you have on hand. This soup is very loosely organized.

Method
Saute onion and carrot in butter or olive oil in a large saucepan until tender and slightly caramelized. Add sage, stir. You can add minced garlic, if you like.

Add pumpkin. Cook a little bit so that the pumpkin gets some caramelizing in, too.

Add stock.

(If desired, this is where you would puree with stick blender or blender. Don't forget to put the top on loosely if you use a blender.)

Return to pan. Heat to a simmer. Stir and season with salt and pepper to your liking. At the very end, lower the heat and stir in the heavy cream. Check the salt level.

Nice with a little spiral of creme fraiche and a whole sage leaf on top.

Ok, goodnight. I'm going to sleep. May visions of sugar-freshmen dance in your heads.

P.S. Canned pumpkin is really good for you and has only one ingredient.

Trivia: I once worked in a factory where I helped with training materials for jobs which included "Pumpkin Elevator Operator".