Why yes! Yes, that is what I made for breakfast on Thanksgiving Day! And they were - not to put too fine a point on it - scrump-diddily-umptious!

      They were an experiment with a most happy conclusion. As you may recall, I am one of the few citizens of the U.S.A. who does not like pumpkin pie, but that isn't to say I don't like pumpkin! So as a salute to that glorious orange gourd on this most thankful of days, I thought, "Huh...I need to make something for breakfast, don't I?"
      In my household we already have a favorite cinnamon roll recipe, one that involves Yukon Gold potatoes, which lend a marvelous tenderness and help the rolls stay moist for days (most cinnamon rolls, tragically, turn dry and tasteless within mere hours of baking). I was thinking about this recipe and I realized that pumpkin has a similar effect. I mean, have you ever had dry pumpkin bread? I sure haven't--if anything I've had the opposite, a baked pumpkin product that claimed to be bread but had a consistency more like bread pudding. So with this in mind, I decided to combine this two "P" products and see if I could start the day with something both delicious and calorie dense. Because, you know...there aren't enough calories in Thanksgiving dinner....
      Since the pumpkin wouldn't contain starch like the potatoes, I decided to swap out the Yukon Golds with a Russet potato. They're both starchier and easier to find. I also decided that canned pumpkin wouldn't have enough flavor at the end of the day, so I added a little pumpkin butter to the filling. That, and applying a cream cheese glaze instead of a regular milk icing (my husband would eat cream cheese frosting by the tub if permitted) made a fabulous final product. And best of all: these can be made the day ahead, enjoy their final rise in the fridge over night, and then be popped directly into the oven in the morning for a relatively brief baking time.
Enjoy!

Z.D.'s Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls

Ingredients
For the Dough: 
1 medium Russet potato (1/2 lb), peeled and cut into 1.5 inch chunks
1 can pure pumpkin purée
1/2 Tablespoon kosher salt
1/2 Cup unsalted butter, room temp
3 large eggs
5 Cups AP flour, plus more for hands, divided
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 Cup warm water
2 scant Tablespoons yeast (about three envelopes)
2 Tablespoons sugar (I like vanilla sugar)

For the Filling:
1 Cup golden brown sugar, packed
2 Tablespoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
hefty pinch of ground cloves
7 Tablespoons unsalted butter (there's 8 in a stick, but you can use the spare to grease the bowl for the dough)
1/2 Cup pumpkin butter (Stonewall Kitchens makes a good one)

For the Icing:
4 oz cream cheese
4 Tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
1 Cup powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Directions
For the Dough:
 - Place the potato chunks in a medium pot with a cup of water. Add the salt, and bring to a boil. Boil uncovered until the potato is very tender, and most of the water has evaporated away, about 15 minutes (give or take). While this is boiling, coat the inside of a large bowl with butter (see note about leftover butter in the filling ingredients), and line a large rimmed baking pan with parchment paper (I used a 10" x 14" Pyrex baking dish).

 - Remove from heat, and mash the potato in the pot with the remaining water. Add in the pumpkin and mash until well combined. Add the butter and mash until the butter is entirely melted. Vigorously whisk in the eggs (the whites like to get lost, so be thorough), then add in one cup of the flour and the nutmeg, and mash until very smooth. Set this aside to cool.

 - Meanwhile, add the 1/2 Cup warm water to the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Add both the yeast and the sugar to the water, stir just to mix, then allow to sit until the yeast becomes very foamy, about ten minutes.

Sorry, I forgot to take photos of the boiling potatoes & mashing process...but here's what your double-P mush looks like when you flop it into a bowl of foamy yeast liquid!

 - Scrape the pumpkin mixture into the mixer bowl, and beat on low speed until well mixed. Slowly add in three more cups of flour until well combined. Stop the mixer and change to a dough hook. Beat the dough on low speed as you add the remaining cup of flour, then up the speed and let the dough beat for about 4 - 5 more minutes. Dough still be sticky but elastic. (Alternatively to using the dough hook, you can dump about a half cup of flour onto a clean surface, scrape the dough onto it, and then knead with your hands. Keep adding the remaining flour as you go, for about 7 minutes, until the dough is thoroughly mixed--but I've always found this dough too sticky for that.)

Yeah, actually, I do NOT recommend kneading this by hand.

 - Turn the dough into your large, buttered bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and a tea towel, and set aside in a warm, draft-free place to rise for an hour. The dough will more than double in size.

For the Filling:
 - In a small bowl, mash together the butter, sugar, and spices until thoroughly combined in a dark brown paste.

As long as your butter is room temp, a simple fork will bring this together fast & easy.

 - Turn out your risen dough onto a well floured surface. Using your hands, press and flatten out the dough into a large rectangle, about 16 by 24 inches. With a pastry brush, spread the whole pastry rectangle with the pumpkin butter (this will be a thin coating).

So orange.

 - Sprinkle the spice butter in tiny blobs across the dough. Then, starting from one long side, roll the dough into a long log.

For rolling, I recommend starting in the middle. Roll a couple inches, then move your hands outward, rolling all the way until the edges are all caught up. Back to the middle, roll another couple inches, repeat. This keeps the dough from stretching into a weird, uneven worm at the end.

 - With a sharp knife, slice the log into 12 equal pieces. Place these round side down in your parchment lined baking dish in a rectangle, three-by-four. IF BAKING THE NEXT DAY, cover and stick in the fridge over night. IF BAKING TODAY, cover and allow to rise in a warm, draft-free area for another hour. Either way, these are some fluffy rolls when they're ready to bake. (Note: My lovely Pyrex comes with lids, so I just put the lid on my pan and stick 'em in the oven this way. If you don't have a lid, or if you're using a regular baking sheet, you're going to have to use a lot of plastic wrap, and you may want to either butter it or dust the tops of your rolls with flour, so they don't stick.)

I forgot the parchment paper. Don't forget the parchment paper.

 - Position an oven rack in the middle of the oven, and pre-heat to 425º F. If you have been fridging* over night, remove from the fridge while the oven preheats, so the pan can warm up a little. Once the oven reaches the proper temperature, remove the cover from the rolls and pop 'em in. Bake until the tops have golden brown tints, about 22 minutes.

These were actually that poofy before I put them in the oven--the over-night rise expands them considerably. Then they bake & just develop that lovely golden brown top!

For the Icing:
 - Remove the rolls from the oven and allow to cool for 8 minutes. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl combine all the icing ingredients. Beat together thoroughly with a hand mixer (or you can use a rubber spatula if you want an arm workout). Once the rolls have cooled a bit, spread the icing thoroughly over the tops (I like to give the corner ones extra attention, because they tend to get the most crusty).

 - Enjoy immediately. If you have left overs, cover tightly and enjoy more the next day. And the next day. And the next day--these will stay moist that long!

Tender, warm, sweet--perfect with coffee, and it will keep you full until dinner time. Trust me.

      And there you have it, folks, a new way to enjoy pumpkin on Thanksgiving. Or any other holiday. Or just about any day, really, I mean breakfast really should happen on a daily basis.



*Ta-daaa! I made up another word for you!

      This last weekend I went to visit a very dear friend of mine in Madison, WI. We chatted, I helped her get ready for Thanksgiving company, we chatted, we went to my favorite restaurant in the world, we chatted, she made me a cake, we chatted, I taught her how to knit, we made pizza from scratch, and we chatted some more. And there may have been some crazy shenanigans free of malice, corruption, and danger, yet still of a marginally suspicious nature, which will not be discussed further. (Hey...that's what friends are for!)
      My friend feels a strong connection with the Greek Goddess Iris, whose messages from Olympus resulted in a rainbow trail across the sky. Therefore, she tends to make a lot of rainbow-themed desserts, including the scrumptious cake we enjoyed during my visit.

Now THAT'S a celebration cake!

She got the recipe online from rainbow dessert mistress YoyoMax, although we did make a couple small changes. For one thing, we separated and batter and dyed it before adding in the egg whites. We also added about double the lemon, and a couple teaspoons of vanilla to the batter as well.


For the filling, we added another teaspoon each of lemon juice and vanilla, and a hefty pinch of salt (salt always helps the sweetness stand out, trust me).

I do not have the skills to pipe this stuff, but my friend made it look easy.

It was a lovely, lightly lemony dessert, beautiful to look at and - honestly - tastier than I expected. As you can see, we slightly over-baked the cake, but the texture and flavor were still great--the only unhappy consequence was that the rainbow colors didn't stand out as much as they should have on the exterior.
      Also, I suspect the inside of my digestive tract will be color-coated for a few days.
      As you might imagine, my friend and I discussed (among other things) our Thanksgiving plans. She intends to make a pumpkin pie, and has already slow roasted and puréed a sugar pumpkin for this purpose. Which meant I was forced to make a confession which frequently shocks people, especially around the holidays: I don't like pumpkin pie.
      The problem is texture. I don't like sqwooshy* foods. I don't like pudding, I don't like porridge, and I can only eat yogurt with a lot of fruit and/or granola. I even make my mashed potatoes lumpy on purpose (I also leave the skins on--I call them "rustic"). The way I figure it, if I am fortunate enough to live to a ripe old age, either digestive problems or dental issues will likely result in a return to a diet not unlike that of an 8 month-old. As long as I have my health, my food will require chewing.
      There are three traditional alternatives to pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving time: pecan (which needs about triple the amount of pecans to not count as sqwooshy), mincemeat (yeah...don't go there), and apple. I considered trying some unusual pies, including a maple pecan bruelée pie which will probably find it's way onto my menu next year, but I finally decided on an apple pie. Which, to many of you, may seem like a cop out, because I've already done apple pie twice on this blog.
      To which I reply: yeah, but not THIS apple pie!!!
      I've already professed that if given the opportunity, I would readily shave my head and take a vow of poverty to become Alton Brown's disciple. But even I have had a few moments where I thought he'd lost his mind, and his Super Apple Pie was one of them. I mean, have you READ this recipe? It starts out seeming reasonable - adding applejack to the crust is like my vodka trick, and a mix of four apples could produce a great balance - but by the time you've sugared and drained the apples, then boiled down their liquid, then layered the slices just so, and then went out and bought a special baking dish you'll probably never use for anything else ever again in your life...well...frankly, it seems a bit overboard.
      However...
      ...there's his pantry pasta sauce, which calls for sweating vegetables before oven roasting, and it is so delicious I don't have the words.
      And then there's his coconut cake, which involves more uses for coconut than I believe is strictly legal in about thirteen states. Involved? Yes. Time consuming? Oh, yes. Worth it? Honey...if you ever want to impress the $#!% out of someone who likes coconut, this is the way to go. I dream of the day I have the time to make this cake again--I dream of it the way some women dream of their wedding.**
      So the evidence would suggest that this insane apple pie might actually be worth it. And since I was already buying the applejack for cocktails and I recently came into possession of some Grains of Paradise (oh yeah, did I mention AB doesn't use traditional cinnamon in this recipe? he uses something I'd never even heard of before, called Grains of Paradise), I decided - with a little prompting from my brother - that this was the year. I'll let you know how it turns out. And I want to hear about YOUR pie adventures this Thanksgiving! Did it go smoothly? Or did the power go out and leave you without an oven for pie or bird (happened to my family when I was in elementary school)? Or did you burn yourself putting the pie into the oven and throw it into the air as you jerked out hand back, coating your kitchen in orange goo (happened to my Mom when I was in middle school)? Or did you knock over the caramel sauce as it was cooking and lose half of it all over your stove top (happened to my brother just a couple years ago)? Holidays are how memories are made, my friends--don't think of them as disasters, think of them as glorious stories to be laughed about over future successes!

Happy Impending Turkey Day!



*It's a word now.

**If you ever decide to make this cake - and you should - yes, really do make your own coconut milk, coconut cream, and harvest your own coconut water and coconut flesh. Don't argue, just do it.

       This morning I awoke to see fast-falling tufts of snow. There was a thin carpet on the roofs and lawns, white lines hugging the telephone wires draped just across the street. I knew instantly, without even looking out the window, that it had been snowing, because of the special shade of burnt tangerine light that was visible between my curtains. Everyone who's seen snow in the city knows this: the crystals amplify the rust-colored glow of the street lamps, until the world is aglow with a special hue, ironically warm in color to compliment the chilly weather. As I prepared breakfast, I watched the windows as the sun began to rise. There was no way to see it past the thick cover of cloud, of course, but I knew it was happening because of the change in the light: the orange abruptly faded, giving way to a hundred variations of blue. Every contour, line, and shadow took on this shade on the opposite side of the color wheel. It's as though, during sunrise, snow plays out a love song to every lake, river, and sea that it has known. It dances blue through the world, then lets the color drain away to the white and grey tones of a snowy morning. Such commonplace magic.
      Most midwesterners I've met are so used to snow they fail to see the magic in it--and by the end of winter, I will share their sentiments. But then over the summer I'll forget again. The snow today especially made me happy because it closely resembles the snow we get back home, in the Portland/Seattle stretch of the west coast. Back there, snow is fluffy, wet, and clings, so that every barren twig and branch gets coasted in puffy whiteness. I was astonished last winter here in Ohio to find that we could get upwards of six inches of snow in 24 hours, and almost zero would cling to the trees. It blows around like cold sand; who knew that water could be so dry?
      Of course my husband immediately had to make an "Interstellar" reference.* There's an ice world in the film that does a great job of portraying how unforgiving "below freezing" can really be. It also does a wonderful job of showing how unforgiving the earth can be, under the right conditions. If you haven't seen the movie yet, I'm not spoiling anything when I mention that the very beginning has documentary-like clips of older people recalling terrible dust storms; in the film, these horrific dust storms are making earth increasingly uninhabitable. Well my husband discovered that those really ARE documentary clips! They're from Ken Burns' "The Dust Bowl,"** a four hour documentary about one of the most terrifying and dramatic examples of how human hubris can influence climate. So of course I decided to watch it.
      Previously, the whole of my understanding regarding this part of American History can be summed up in one sentence: during the Great Depression a whole section of the mid-west turned into dust, and nothing would grow, and John Steinbeck wrote a famous novel about it that I was forced to read in high school and didn't like at the time because it was long and depressing.
      Here's what I didn't know about the Dust Bowl: it lasted a decade. And it was primarily in a relatively concentrated part of the U.S., focusing around the Oklahoma panhandle. And it was caused by a startling combination of economic, agricultural, political, and environmental factors. And it was much, much worse than anything I had previously imagined (I kind of skimmed "Grapes of Wrath"--see my earlier comment about long and depressing). This documentary is fascinating to me for so many reasons, and I am so grateful to Christopher Nolan for using the Dust Bowl as his template for the "end of the world." Hollywood has done nuclear explosions, it's done meteor crashes, it's done pandemics, it's done war, it's done global warming, and it's done pollution. But here is a real catastrophe that we've already tasted, right on the edge of living memory. And it is so timely, to recall this now.

      As a writer, this piece of "Interstellar" really impressed me as how fiction can be such a powerful vehicle for reintroducing history. The human race is capable of learning from its past--but only if it remembers. I wish more artists would do this. It certainly has cemented my interest in keeping my stories - however far removed from reality - firmly rooted in well-researched history, whether it's the brand of tea being served or the building of the Panama canal.



*If you haven't seen the movie yet, do so. Like, today. You're online, so look up the movie times and see when it's playing. Then go. Seriously. It's really, really good. I can't think of a single person I know who wouldn't like this movie for one reason or another.

**You should watch this too. Break it up into four one-hour chunks, and make sure you have a glass of water with you--your mouth is going to feel dry.

      So Wednesday morning, as we're getting dressed for our respective day's activities, my spouse informs me that Thursday there is to be a potluck at his place of work. Their third in three weeks. Translation: "Honey I need a good review from these people, and you know the Laws of Potlucks--I've rocked the last two thanks to you, don't forsake me now!" So I immediately start thinking of what odds and ends I can throw together into something cheap, fast, and impressive...and then my husband mentioned that his superior has, and I quote, "declared it will be a 'holiday themed' potluck." Translation: Christmas themed. Two weeks before Thanksgiving.
      Insert rant about Americans not giving other holidays their due because they are so obsessed with friggin' Christmas starting around, oh, JULY these days!
      But of course, I have my pride, and no husband of mine will go to a potluck armed with purchased salsa and red and green tortilla chips....
      Insert rant about workplaces taking the Christian majority for granted and celebrating without concern for other spiritual faiths.
      As it happens, I do celebrate Christmas*--but I don't appreciate it when people ASSUME that I celebrate Christmas. So the first thing I said was, "Can I make you Star of David cookies?" My husband was concerned about ruffling feathers right before he received his crucial performance reviews, so that was out. My next question was, "Can I make 'Nightmare Before Christmas' themed food?" He said yes, if I could think of anything...and given my limited time, I was unable to do so. So instead I fell back on the usual pie.
      To be specific: quiche.
      Yes, quiche is a pie. It is a savory custard pie that people often eat for brunch. And it can be very easy to mess up, which is why some people simply refuse to make it. The first challenge is the crust, of course, but we've already got that under our belt. The second challenge is the custard, which can turn out rubbery, salty, cracked, or weepy if not done properly. Then there's the rest of the filling, which - due to volume, moisture, salt and/or oil content - may be the reason the custard didn't turn out right! I struggled with quiches for years, trying recipe after recipe but never getting it to turn out the way I wanted.
      And then, Alton Brown came to my rescue. In the Good Eats episode "Egg Files II: Man with a Flan" he explained the importance of balancing egg protein with milk fat, and ensuring the rest of your filling is relatively dry. Fresh tomatoes, for example, contain a bunch of water, which then cooks into your custard and ruins it. Certain cheeses present a similar problem with their salt and oil content. I have stuck to his advice and enjoyed tender, tasty quiches ever since, so tossing together a red and green quiche (feel free to roll your eyes, I did) was easy. Don't be put off by the filling I chose--just trust me. The flavor will exceed your expectations!

Z.D.'s Roasted Broccoli & Sun-dried Tomato Quiche

Ingredients:
1 round of pie dough
1 Cup roasted broccoli florets, chopped**
1/2 Cup sun-dried tomatoes, chopped
1 Cup half-and-half (the real stuff, none of this "fat free" atrocity)
2 eggs
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt, scant
generous pinch grated nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper (about 20 twists of the grinder)
1/2 Cup loosely packed shredded gouda cheese (or 1/3 Cup gruyere)

I chose these ingredients because they were what I had in my fridge at the time.

Directions:
 - Pre-heat your oven to 350º F. On a lightly floured surface, roll out your pie dough to fit a 9 inch pie plate, & lay it evenly within. Scatter broccoli & sun-dried tomatoes evenly along the bottom of your crust.

 - In a medium bowl (or a large liquid measuring cup, as I prefer), beat the half-&-half with the eggs until the liquid is smooth & an even buttery color. Beat in the salt & nutmeg (the nutmeg is a French touch, & oddly enough it adds a lot).

 - Pour the custard into the pie crust. It should only come about 1/2 to 2/3rd's of the way up the sides, which is just right--the eggs expand while baking & you don't want it to overflow. Grind your pepper over the top, then scatter your cheese evenly over that. Roll down or style the edges of your crust any way you like (I like to roll down because it curls over as it bakes, giving it a nice enclosed look).

The creamy gouda compliments the roasty sweetness of the broccoli & acidity of the tomatoes, but due to its oil content it needed to be sprinkled on top instead of stirred into the filling.

 - Put the quiche on the lowest shelf in your oven OR, if you have the nerve, on the bottom of your oven. The reason? One common problem with quiche is that the bottom crust gets soggy as it absorbs liquid during the baking process. To prevent this, you want the bottom to cook faster. Hence the lower position in the oven. Bake for 45 minutes. The filling should set to a firmness like just-set gelatin, with the crust just lightly browned. Cool for at at least 15 minutes, store covered in the fridge for up to three days.

See how pretty it is! And because it has broccoli you can pretend it's healthy!

      With Thanksgiving coming up, many people will have out-of-town guests, and very busy kitchens. A quiche (like this one) can be thrown together a day in advance, and offers an easy breakfast or lunch option. I suggest making a vegetarian quiche and serving with a platter of fresh fruit and some slices of ham, with freshly brewed coffee. Voila, an easy, classy way to start your holiday!
      Oh, and incidentally, everyone at the potluck loved the quiche. They left me one itty-bitty slice which looks like it wasn't even cut from the middle...I guess that means compliments to the chef? (I should have told them it was a Kwanzaa quiche....)


*Actually, I celebrate a lot of things--I like any excuse to decorate, dress up, feast, and feel grateful!

**Roasting broccoli is a very tasty preparation. Pre-heat your oven to 375º F, wash and cut up some fresh broccoli (don't leave out the stems, they're the best part! Just peel off the tough outer skin and dice the tender inner stalk), making the florets roughly one inch in size. Toss with a couple tablespoons of olive oil, spread in a rimmed baking dish, sprinkle with a couple pinches of kosher salt and pop 'em in the oven for 30 minutes. Stir every ten minutes so they roast evenly. When done, they'll be tender, browned in spots, and a little shrunken. Roasting brings out the sugars, so you'll have surprisingly yummy broccoli, less bitter than usual. Save a cup of the florets for this quiche!

      So, Z.D...what's with the slacking on the blog?
      Well, first it was Halloween, then it was cleaning up after Halloween. And then it was me getting frustrated with myself: how was it was I finding time to write emails, copy recipes, and write in my blog but somehow not finding time to work on my story!?! So I pledged not to work on any of the first three until I had a full, workable, pleasing outline for the first book in my zombie trilogy, rather than a slip-shod series of ideas full of gaping holes. And at last, yesterday, I completed said outline. No more sitting down to the laptop and hearing the grinding of teeth rather than the tapping of keys! So here I am, finally returning to my blog, satisfied that my novelist aspirations are not completely delusional.
      And speaking of delusions, for those of you wondering how the novel queries I undertook over the summer came out, the results are in: I have heard back from every agent who said they would get back to me, and all of them have turned me down. Disappointing, yes, but not strongly so--I went into this fully aware that my odds of success were not super high. However, I am feeling very positive about the query process itself. I've been writing stories for years, but I've only been writing queries for about eight months, and frankly I found them appallingly difficult. I did ask around with agents and editors, and was told that for a writer who does her research on agents and writes a compelling query, she should expect about 7% positive initial response--i.e. requests for more materials. I sent out 44 queries, and received three requests for additional pages/chapters/outlines. In other words, it seems I did the process correctly. This is good, and I find it substantially heartening! Due to this success, the next time I have a finished manuscript to submit I will have much higher confidence and somewhat less stress as I begin the querying/submission process.
      Finally - belatedly - I promised my friend the Potato Princess (you know who you are!) a recipe nearly two weeks ago, and I have been shamefully tardy in keeping that promise. Here you are, my dear--enjoy!

Z.D.'s Thai-style Pumpkin Curry

Ingredients:
2 Tablespoons coconut oil
1 medium sugar pumpkin, seeded, peeled, and chopped into 3/4 inch cubes (about 4.5 Cups)
2 medium red onions, sliced into thin wedges
1 Cup raw, unsalted cashews
3 cloves garlic, pressed
1 inch peeled ginger, grated
2-3 Tablespoons red curry paste, depending on your preference*
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
One 14oz can unsweetened coconut milk
One 14 oz can unsweetened coconut cream
juice of 1/2 lime (optional)
1 teaspoon Thai fish sauce (optional)
1/2 bunch fresh cilantro (optional)

Directions:
 - In a large, heavy pot, warm the oil over med-high heat. Add the pumpkin and cook until golden, stirring occasionally. Using a slotted spoon, remove the pumpkin to a bowl and set side.
 - Add the onions to the pot and sauté until translucent and barely starting to brown. Add in the cashews and sauté until just golden (keep an eye on these, as they go from golden to burnt very fast).
 - Add the garlic and ginger to the pot and stir just until garlic begins to take on a golden tinge, about 1-2 minutes. Push the onions and cashews to the side of the pot so there is a clear pool of oil in the middle, and drop the curry paste into the hot oil. Stir, standing back to avoid fumes and splattering, until paste is broken up, about 30 seconds.
 - Return the pumpkin to the pot, sprinkle with salt, and stir to combine. Pour in the coconut milk and coconut cream, and stir until the sauce is uniform in color and comes to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until flavors are blended and pumpkin is tender, 12 - 18 minutes.
 - Taste and adjust seasoning as desired. The lime will brighten the flavor and bring out the heat just a bit more. The fish sauce will give more of a traditional Thai flavor, although cooks preferring a vegan dish should omit. Sprinkle cilantro over to serve, if desired. Serve with fresh steamed rice!

*If the label is more than 50% English, I do not recommend this curry paste--whatever the brand, I guarantee it will be weak. Go to an Asian grocery store, find the isle with cans of curry paste (these are often the size and shape of tuna cans), and get one you can't read the label on to save your life. THIS is the good stuff! Any paste you don't use right away can be frozen for later use (I like to freeze mine in 1 Tablespoon blobs in an old ice cube tray, then transfer them to a zip-top bag).

You can also make this dish with green curry paste, if you prefer, but I think the red goes better with the pumpkin. Also, as with just about every pumpkin dish, you can substitute Butternut or other squash for the gourd!