Pumpkin Bread
(Photo stolen from these folks)
The frost may tonight be on the pumpkins still perched on my patio furniture; it's time to break out the pumpkin bread recipe.
Every year I make loaves of pumpkin bread for gifts. I make a lot of them. Why pumpkin bread, specifically? Well, not only is it the right season for the vegetable, but I think pumpkin really is the best plant to use for a spicy dessert bread. I'm not a big fan of banana bread, and while I do like zucchini bread, pumpkin bread just blows it out of the water. And the giftees seem to agree with me.
This recipe has a family story behind it. The original recipe we ever used, which Mom has lovingly preserved in her cedar chest, appeared in my brother's Ranger Rick magazine one fall day about 30 years ago. The youngest in the family, my brother Bocci, decided he'd like to try making the recipe, so Mom, a very good cook and a 4-H cooking instructor for several years, helped him through it. While most kids (including Yours Truly) made chocolate chip cookies and ate half of the dough, Bocci took this recipe, and future recipes, seriously, although I have no doubt he licked the batter spoon. Bocci continued to have an interest in baking, and eventually worked his way through much of Martha Stewart's first pie cookbook. To lop off a long story, Bocci is now the executive chef of the restaurant Postrio in the Las Vegas resort The Venetian (where, unfortunately, they do NOT call him Bocci). Oh look, there's my brother Mantel Man!
(Photo stolen from ">these guys)
So. I'm not saying that this recipe will improve your culinary skills -- it won't. It will probably improve your neighbor relations if you bake a few loaves for people on your block, however. And that's just what I've begun doing lately, and why I have 3 1/2 wrapped pumpkin breads in my refrigerator as we speak. I feel no urgency to explain the 1/2.
Here, then, is the recipe, with a couple of twists I've added, such as cutting the salt in half, reducing the oil by 25-33%, and substituting diced prunes for raisins. Prunes are SO much better, and (other than the annoyance of having to dice them) they make me very happy. Plus, I'm doing my small part for local prune farmers.
Laurie’s Pumpkin Bread
(double batch – makes two large or three medium loaves)
Mix together in a large bowl:
3 ½ cups sifted flour
2 tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt (up to 1 tsp.)
3 cups granulated sugar
1 tsp. nutmeg
1 tsp. cinnamon
Stir in:
3/4 cup canola oil (you can go as low as 2/3 cup; I haven't tried lower yet, but I will)
1 cup water
Beat in:
4 large eggs
Add:
2 cups canned packed pumpkin
1 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
1 cup finely chopped dried sweet plums (pitted prunes)
Pour batter into three medium or two large well-greased loaf pans. Bake at 350° for 1 hour (325° if using glass pans) or until a toothpick comes out clean (it usually takes longer, I've found). Cool in pans for 5-10 minutes, then turn loaves out onto racks to cool.
You can put whole walnut meats on top of the batter before baking if you like, for a garnish. Raisins are easier to deal with than prunes, but prunes taste better. Instead of pumpkin, pureed persimmon (skins and all) is really good, too.
(Photo stolen from these guys)
Bocci likes to tease me about my affinity for this recipe. If he were to read this he'd make a face and say, "Why'd you give these people THAT recipe?"
But a couple of years ago he admitted to me that Postrio was that week serving warm pumpkin bread with homemade ice cream (probably some exotic flavor and with a hot caramel rum sauce drizzled over it or something). I had to feel at least on par with my baby brother, so I told him about my preference for prunes in the recipe.
"We use white raisins," he told me.
"Prunes are so much better," I told him with a snooty little note of superiority in my voice.
"Not better than white raisins soaked in (insert name of fancy liqueur whose name escapes me HERE)."
Humph. Never argue with a chef. He always wins, and if he loses he won't cook for you any more.
