Death Has a Holiday
There's a holiday originating in Mexican culture called 'Dia de los Muertos' that starts on Halloween, and goes on for a few days afterward into early November.
It's autumn, the time when the earth starts to get sleepy, when the crops have been harvested and it gets dark early. The trees lose their leaves and the landscape becomes barren, except for L.A. where it's in the 90's and the palm trees are the same giant waving statues they always were. Occasionally a big frond might fall, blocking a road or dinging your car, but that's it. It's a jolly celebration and people dress up and dance around like the departed dead are to be remembered with glee, or like they're happy where they went...they were glad to get out of this life. Halloween night is a time for parties and kids coming to the door with demands for candy. I have friends who love that and find it cute and fun, but it bothers me, as do most excuses for a party, and I usually stay home in the dark praying my place looks empty, or at least unfriendly, because let's face it, death is the most unfriendly fellow ever, and in my world, in my head at least, every day is a day of the dead. I think I was in my early adolescence, around my 12th birthday, when the idea occurred to me that I would die some day, and it's been a preoccupation of mine ever since.
It must be an Irish thing, for whenever my sister and I chat on the phone it's only a matter of time before we dive into what we call the 'Irish News'. Who got cancer? What about that bus that overturned on the Cross Bronx Expressway....at least 120 fatalities! I've got this sharp pain in my thumb...it must be arthritis! Any and all things lead to...well...the grave. Maybe you think I get some kind of satisfaction from these morbid rumblings, but really I'm left just tired and sad. There is an upside though to being prepared for the worst. There will be no horrid surprises since you're expecting to drop dead any minute, and chances are what befalls you will be better than what you had in mind. There's comfort in that.
When dad died a couple of years ago I was there in the room with him just as I was with mom some 30 years ago. It was the same both times. The dying person takes a breath every 4 seconds, then every 6, then 10, and then stops. Both times I watched this happen I was dumbfounded. I looked hard at them, at their chests, sure that they would rise again for another breath. I looked from the side, thinking I must be missing it...that the breathing must be very shallow. It took a long time to realize it was over. There would be no more breathing. It took much longer to realize there would be no more chatting or stories or jokes or opinions or insights or even complaining with him. Where did my father go? He was a devout atheist and liked to say 'Honey, this is all there is. I guarantee it.' He was an intelligent reasonable man, and I took his ideas seriously. He was right most of the time.
But wait. What about all those people celebrating at those parties in their costumes? What about all the decorations? The dancing? Even fireworks (L.A. people love their fireworks). And the Jack o'lanterns, their faces lit from within by twinkling candles? What about those pumpkins? You might not ever think of this but a pumpkin is completely edible, just like any squash. Use a 'sugar pumpkin' to make this stuff rather than a carving pumpkin which can be stringy and tough.
Pumpkin Butter
Flesh from one small edible pumpkin, pureed. This should render about 2 cups
½ cup brown sugar
½ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon dried ginger
¼ teaspoon allspice
1/8 teaspoon cardamom
½ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons maple syrup
½ cup apple cider
juice from ½ lemon
½ teaspoon vanilla
First, let's talk about the pumpkin. Some might use canned pumpkin, and that's fine if it's summertime and you can't get a real one, but believe me, the fresh one makes a far better butter. Take a sharp paring knife and first cut around the stem to remove. Then cut lengthwise from top to bottom. Oil the insides slightly and place flat side down on parchment paper on a heavy baking sheet. Pierce a few slits in the skin to let steam escape. In a pre-heated 350 degree oven bake for about 40 minutes, until a knife inserted goes in with ease. Let cool and scrape seeds out. Some people will clean and bake the seeds with a little salt. I'm not that masochistic. Scoop out the flesh and puree in a processor until smooth. This should give you about 2 cups.
Put all ingredients in a heavy pot over a low flame and stir. Keep your eye on this pot. It will bubble up and create a Jackson Pollock all over your stove if you leave it alone. Stir every few minutes for about 45 minutes. It will get dark and thick. As you go along, taste for sugars. Every pumpkin is different, some being naturally sweeter than others. I myself don't mind a pumpkin butter that's less sweet. Let cool and refrigerate. This butter will last a long time, but not forever, like everything.