While living in Hong Kong, American-style pumpkins arrived in the western groceries about two weeks before Halloween and disappeared the day after, much as they do in the U.S. The first year we were there, I tried (rather hopelessly) to find a farm that might grow pumpkins but was not rewarded for my efforts. That was also the year our helper, not understanding the finer points of Halloween, prepared our pumpkin for dinner one night.
I didn’t know what to expect in Beijing and so, on an outing with Chinese friends to one of the city’s organic farms, with some help in translation, I asked if the proprietor might have some pumpkins. His face lit up and he motioned for me to wait for just one minute. I looked at Elisa and said, “Well, let’s see what he brings.”
Five minutes later, the farmer, beaming, returned holding the large, u-shaped green squash, pictured above. Of course. I looked at Elisa, “Well, do you think we can carve it?” Several days later, pumpkins began appearing at the western supermarket near our home. The price wasn’t bad at about US$1 per pound. They came in all kinds of beautiful, autumnal colors but did not resemble the shiny, orange, beacons we carve each year in the U.S.
I discussed the issue with other American mothers at my daughter’s bus stop. “Well, in Qatar, where we last lived, we carved watermelons!,” said Susan, “They were actually quite beautiful when lit with a candle.” Yes, I could see it.
Then, last weekend, we set out to visit another farm for its annual harvest festival celebration. I was cautiously optimistic as I knew this particular establishment catered to foreign as well as local tastes and the day’s festivities included a pumpkin rolling contest. So I was disappointed when I couldn’t find pumpkins for sale anywhere. The pumpkins being rolled were not exactly the western variety, but they were orange and would be fine substitutes, if I could find one. I scanned the farm, looking for the familiar mound – or field – of orange. Nothing.
As we were leaving several hours later, we stopped to ask a question at one of the farm stands. I was chatting with an American woman, who was telling me of her decision to quit her job and move to Beijing to learn Chinese, when I saw it. On the bench, below jars of honey and next to the homemade breads, was one pumpkin. Was it exactly like the ones at home? Nah. But it was beautiful – shiny and orange with a few streaks of green and beige.
A bit of bargaining and we had the pumpkin that was to become our Beijing jack-o’-lantern.
Visit DeliciousBaby’s to see more photos.