The Great Pumpkin!
From Mere Fodder to Autumn Icon (plus a Halloween Tale)
It’s impossible to think of autumn without thinking of pumpkins. Whether it’s memories of carving and decorating pumpkins, enjoying pumpkin bread or pumpkin pie, or sipping on a sweet and spicy pumpkin latte, it’s likely that you have a place in your heart for these vibrant, autumnal gourds. Of all the fruits and vegetables that ripen in late summer, how did the pumpkin become so synonymous with fall and Halloween? Why not beets? Swiss chard? The prolific potato? Along with their dynamic and varied colors, textures, and sizes, pumpkins actually have quite the captivating history.
These cucurbits are native to the Americas and have been growing here for about 10,000 years. Before humans ever arrived on the continent, massive creatures like ground sloths and mastodons enjoyed an ancient version of the pumpkin which grew easily on floodplains and a variety of other environments. The oldest domesticated pumpkin seeds were found by archaeologists in the highlands of Oaxaca, Mexico and date back to 7000-5500 B.C. Through trade and travel of indigenous peoples, pumpkins spread over time to what is now North America.
Of course, the oldest pumpkins didn’t look like the shiny, orange, round pumpkins we know today, and they weren’t as palatable either. Before being domesticated by indigenous peoples of central and north America, the flesh of pumpkins was shockingly bitter and unfit for human consumption. Despite this, they were still deemed worth cultivating because of their nutrition-packed seeds and their rinds that were perfect for water vessels and/or flotation devices. Over time, pumpkins were bred into a much more appetizing version of themselves. Indigenous peoples in the American southwest began cultivating a variety of squashes by around 2500 B.C, and the crop rapidly spread all across the land. Slowly but surely, cucurbits became more edible, and just as nutrient-dense. Pumpkins were traditionally prepared by the people indigenous to North America as a savory part of a meal, often roasted and added into soups or dried in strips like jerky.
Today, indigenous cooks have diverse recipes for pumpkin dishes. For example, Chef Tilsen-Brave Heart has a recipe for “Magic Pumpkin Squash Soup” which you can find here. Jenny Johns has a Seminole recipe for pumpkin frybread, which sounds insanely delicious. You can find Javier Kaulaity’s (Kiowa) recipe for braised buffalo with savory pumpkin (as well as other recipes) here.
Upon the Europeans’ arrival the continent, they found that pumpkins and other cucurbits were grown in great abundance by the indigenous peoples. These fleshy gourds were a staple part of their diets, and were integrated into the colonists’ diets as well. Europeans learned from the native peoples to grow pumpkins and the crop quickly became synonymous with rural life in America.
For the colonists, pumpkins weren’t seen as a delicacy to be treasured during the fall harvest as they are today– not by far. They were grown in great numbers to be stored away for the long, bleak winters when there wasn’t much else left to eat. In these times, pumpkins helped to provide the nutrition needed to make it through. In adjusting to life in New England, the colonists’ diets consisted of more pumpkins than they probably preferred. In fact, by the late 1700’s, “pumpkin head” had become a common way to refer to New Englanders due to their pumpkin-heavy diets. This eventually morphed into a way to call someone thick-headed, becoming “bumpkin” as in “country bumpkin”.
In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, pumpkins were not yet the icon they are today, and their marketability didn’t increase until it was found that pumpkins made great fodder for livestock. Because of this, their popularity among farmers increased drastically. Then, during the industrial revolution, folks began moving into cities for work. Though other squashes were popular in city markets, pumpkins pretty much remained a part of farm life exclusively. As it happens when humans become disconnected from the natural world, city folk eventually began to feel nostalgic for certain aspects of rural life, and pumpkins became a symbol of the way things were, a simpler time. I found an interesting book called Pumpkin: The Curious History of an American Icon in which the author states:
“The pumpkin has no economic value in this new industrial economy. The other squashes are associated with daily life, but the pumpkin represents abundance and pure agrarian ideals.”
It was at this point that the pumpkin began to develop its iconic status.
The romanticing of “pure agrarian ideals” is abundant if you’ve ever been to a pumpkin patch or fall harvest festival. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good harvest festival. They provide a beautiful, if cleaned-up, version of a farm where you can get together with friends, drink warm cider, eat pumpkin donuts, pick apples and pumpkins, and maybe even sit around a bonfire. I do think that the emphasis on pumpkins as only a decoration is a bit sad, though. Not to mention the fact that most pumpkin patches are laden with pesticides that can kill even the elusive squash bug. I hate that. However, I do enjoy the sense of community and coming together to celebrate the harvest season that fall festivals provide. Mostly I love petting goats and seeing children have the time of their lives at a pumpkin patch.
By the early 20th century, Americans had fully embraced the tradition of carving pumpkins as a Halloween tradition. To accommodate this (and of course, to make more money), farmers began to breed pumpkins for carving rather than eating. The big, round pumpkins we see at grocery stores in the fall are not great candidates for making pumpkin pie, but their skins are thick and better equipped to support a spooky, carved-in face for a couple of weeks than a humble pie pumpkin. The tradition of carving jack-o-lanterns is derived from two things: the story of Stingy Jack from Celtic folklore, and the Will-O-the-Wisp: a legend that manifests as a floating light in the woods or in marshes that could possess passers-by. Do you know the story of Stingy Jack? I didn’t until it came up on a podcast I listen to regularly on a Halloween special episode a few years ago. There are several variations of the tale, but it goes something like this:
The Legend of Stingy Jack
The story of Stingy Jack takes place on the western coast of Ireland. The townsfolk knew Jack to be two things: a blacksmith and a drunk— and a mean one. He lived down a long road just out of town in an isolated home in the countryside. One night he reached a mighty Hawthorn tree at a crossroad on his usual route and saw a man in the shadows. This man was not actually a man, but the devil himself. He was there to claim Jack’s mortal soul for all the awful things he’d done. However, Jack convinced the devil that in return for his mortal soul, the devil would grant him seven full years of wealth and good fortune. In addition to this, Jack wanted a small purse– one that only he could open and close and take things in and out of. The devil agreed to Jack’s deal and promised to see Jack in seven years.
Seven years later, the devil returned. Before he took his soul, Jack asked the devil to oblige him in stopping in at the pub for a final drink. That one final drink turned into two, and three, and four, and even more. At the end of their drunken night, and true to his name, Stingy Jack refused to pay the tab, confessing that he squandered every ounce of his great fortune. He convinced the devil to turn himself into a coin so that he could pay using that coin. The drunken devil then turned himself into a gold coin, which Jack promptly stuffed into his magical purse. On his way back home with the devil in his purse, Jack swore to the devil he’d let him out if he made one final promise: to grant him seven more years of great wealth and fortune. Knowing he’d likely never be able to escape the purse, he reluctantly agreed once again.
After seven more years, the devil appeared to Jack once again to finally collect his mortal soul. Jack promised no more tricks and began to walk with the devil. However, when they passed an apple tree on the road, Jack asked the devil to climb up to get him an apple, before claiming his soul for all eternity. The devil obliged and climbed up the tree. The moment the devil’s feet were off the ground, Jack quickly carved crucifixes all around the tree’s trunk, trapping the devil once again! The devil cried out, cursing Jack.
Some years later Jack collapsed dead, finally having drunk himself to death. God would not welcome him into heaven, and of course after being tricked by Jack over and over again, the devil did not want his eternal soul now either. Instead, the devil cursed Jack to wander the night on earth for all eternity, with only a lantern with the embers of hell flame to guide his way.
Thus the “Jack-O-Lantern” came to be a Samhain (sah-when) tradition in Ireland. It is important to know that Samhain is a Celtic, pagan celebration that takes place between sundown on October 31 and sunrise on November 1. It marks the end of summer and the harvest, as well as the beginning of winter. It is believed that this is the time when the veil between our realm and the spirit realm is at its thinnest, making it easier for spirits to pass through the veil and enter into our mortal world. In fearful and exciting anticipation of crossing paths with wayward spirits on that night, people would carry these jack-o-lanterns, customarily carved into turnips instead of pumpkins, since pumpkins were not so readily available in Ireland at that time. Folks would carefully carve a face into the turnip, then fill it with animal fat and set it aflame, carrying it around as a lantern to ward off any wandering spirits. The result is much more horrifying than you may expect:
These original jack-o-lanterns ended up looking much too similar to tiny, shrunken heads. When an influx of Irish immigrants arrived in the United States, they carried on this beloved tradition. However, they discovered that the ever-abundant American pumpkin made a much better canvas, as it was larger and not quite so tough as a turnip. Obviously, this tradition took off in America as carving jack-o-lanterns is still a popular Halloween tradition today.
In fact, pumpkins for carving and decorating are much more popular today than pumpkins for eating. Most Americans buy pre-blended pumpkin in a can to craft their autumn treats instead of processing whole pumpkins. Unfortunately, an absolutely disgusting number of pumpkins are wasted by Americans every year around Halloween (1.3 billion pounds each year, actually). So, if you’re carving jack-o-lanterns this year, don’t toss them in the trash when they start to rot, toss them into a compost heap, feed them to wildlife (chickens, dogs, squirrels), or donate them to a local farm that can feed them to their animals, and try roasting or planting the seeds! Try saving the insides and challenge yourself to use them in a recipe.
The history of pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns in America is a story that spans centuries, blending cultural traditions with folklore. From early agriculture in the Americas to spooky Irish lore, these vibrant orange gourds have become intrinsically linked to autumn traditions. The evolution from unpleasant but reliable calories, to a symbol of a class agrarian society, to an object used to ward off evil spirits, the pumpkin reflects the enduring spirit of autumn. As we continue to grow, eat, carve, and display these iconic symbols, we not only celebrate tradition but also create new memories, binding generations through the enchanting glow of the pumpkin's warm light– if we can keep the squash bugs away…
Festively yours,
Allyson