YO MAMA: The many joys of baking pumpkin pie, with a toddler

OPINION

It was the first time I’d made pumpkin pie from scratch using real sugar pumpkins. It was also the first time I’d made pie with a toddler.

My 18-month-old son could not believe we were finally picking the mini pumpkins that had been growing in our garden all summer long. They had a sort of reverence about them thanks to all the “no touching” commands. The kid liked to peek under the leaves to inspect the quirky orange orbs hiding within.

There are few foods more adorable for a toddler to carry around than a sugar pumpkin. The kid carried his prize up from the garden, using both hands, to the house where it sat on our coffee table and doubled as a toy for a few days before Thanksgiving.

“Unkin-unkin” also received an honorary seat on the couch for awhile. Toddlers truly are exceptional hosts, even (and perhaps especially) when the company is a fruit. Pumpkins are, botanically speaking, fruits, not vegetables. It’s marvelous what you learn while narrating life to a toddler.

Then came the big day that we cut unkin-unkin open. With eyes wide and mouth agape, the kid watched from his counter-height kitchen platform while I sawed into the orange rind, revealing the slimy, stringy, seed-filled mush within. What a sensory experience it was for him to squish his fingers into the pulp and try to pull out the seeds.

We (mostly I) separated the seeds from the pulp and seasoned them with olive oil, salt and pepper for roasting in the oven. The kitchen floor acquired a decent smattering of pulp and, fun fact, pumpkins are not a dog’s favourite fruit. We (I) cleaned up while the seeds and the flesh roasted in the oven. This pie was going to take a long time to make.

We knew the seeds were done when we heard them popping in the pan (a very exciting “what’s happening?!” moment for us all). We snacked on them while the flesh finished cooking. To keep the kid from eating the seeds too fast, my husband and I made a game with three of his plastic cups where we’d hide a seed under one of them and shuffle them around, magic trick style. Who says you can’t play with your food on occasion?

Of course, there was serious work to be done. The kid “helped” make the pie crust, scooping in way too much flour and gobbling up chunks of butter. I blew little clouds of flour out of his hair and showed him how to scoop the shaggy dough into a ball. He quite enjoyed the rhythmic action of using the rolling pin, until it rolled right off the counter.

We used the Almighty Blender to puree the pumpkin filling. The blender has the auditory appeal of a race car with the added bonus of being able to create delicious foods, so it is a pretty big deal. I let the kid grab little pinches of cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger to sprinkle into the mixture. He sniffed his fingers, sneezed, and giggled with the new sensation of tingly ginger in his nostrils. Finally, with orange-goop covered clothes, we poured the filling into the pie shell and slid it into the oven.

An hour later, out came the pie. Our garden pumpkins transformed. The culmination of a summer’s worth of watering and weeding, and a day’s worth of cooking with a toddler.

We were so excited to give our son his first taste of pumpkin pie, a rare sweet treat.

We served it on a little plastic plate with a toddler fork and set the dessert out in front of him. He disregarded the fork, picked it up with his hand, and shoved the pie into his mouth. When we asked him how he liked his pumpkin pie, he simply said “unkin-unkin” with his mouth full and scampered out of his chair to go and play. He didn’t even finish the slice.

As it turned out, we had a lot more fun making the pie than actually eating it, which was all over in a matter of seconds. After all that, it was the process, not the product, that each of us will remember. It’s the details; tiny hands holding up a pumpkin, flour dusted cheeks, pumpkin seeds popping in the oven. The many joys of baking pumpkin pie.

— Charlotte Helston gave birth to her first child, a rambunctious little boy, in the spring of 2021. Yo Mama is her weekly reflection on the wild, exhilarating, beautiful, messy, awe-inspiring journey of parenthood.

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