A Pumpkin Buttermilk Bundt Cake and The Passage to Autumn at Restoration Farm

The autumnal equinox arrives with quiet luminance at Restoration Farm.  In a sense, the farm is like a lush, romantic landscape painting that evolves before our eyes.  The changes are subtle, but evident.   The growing season is reaching fruition.  

The colors of vegetables are richer and skins are firmer.  

The topography is changing.   In the fields, buff-colored Long Island cheese pumpkins dot the field.

Piles of wood chips, resembling a sand dune, have been left at Apple Trace for mulching the heirloom apple trees.   

Manure is piled high in the fields to nourish the soil for the next growing season.

The ubiquitous kale is still producing nutritious greens, but the plants now resemble tall palm trees.   

Canadian geese glide overhead.   One hears the soft sound of a nurturing melody carried on the morning breeze.  It is the gentle clucking of Donna Sinetar's growing brood of heritage laying hens.  The progression of weeds has begun to slow.  As always, there is evidence of people at work.   The berries have concluded and the bushes have been cut back to encourage new growth.     

Not all is bucolic.  Nature can deliver cruel blows.    The heritage meat bird program was cut short when a red fox quickly decimated the third batch of chicks – some thirty in all.  Two of the cows from the historic village got loose and damaged two of the saplings at Apple Trace.  

Glenn Aldridge's “Voodoo Garden,” an experimental edible garden, was attacked by ferocious pig weed in late summer that was so aggressive he simple couldn't tame it any longer.   But, even amidst the morass of weeds there is evidence of Glenn's labor and small, perfectly shaped pie pumpkins are spotted. 

Each season adds perspective at the farm.  Insights emerge from heartbreak and disappointment, and we try once again.

The passage to autumn is a moment to celebrate the journey we've shared together and the ripening of the growing season.   Dinner in the field brings you closest to the food and the community.  At the annual autumn equinox potluck, we celebrate a thriving farm and community that is cultivating life, no matter the obstacles.

I bring an iconic autumn dessert to the meal that to me symbolizes the fullness of the autumn season.   A pumpkin buttermilk spice cake is a sweet finish to the fall banquet and a harbinger of autumn and winter celebrations to come.  

At the meal, we honor the farmers, the members, the volunteers and all their contributions.  We celebrate the successes, the heartaches, and of course the food of Restoration Farm.   

It is a fine celebration - filled with good food, fiddle music, friends and family - but there is wistfulness as well, as we know that soon the farm will sleep and this growing season will be but a memory.   

©2012 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Torta di Zucca – Pumpkin Cake

I’m feeling wistful for Italy.

Exactly one year ago, I was starting an eight week sabbatical, journeying to Italy to drink in the cuisine…and the wine. It was harvest season in Tuscany, after all. I consumed a lot of wine. One wisecracking travel agent described it as, “Italy on three bottles a day.” I did managed to learn a thing or two about the food, in spite of myself.

Things are different this year. At the moment, my most exotic destination is my kitchen on Long Island. Surprisingly, Long Island is becoming a bit of a food destination in its own right. When two dear friends, whom I’ll call “Valentine” and “Proteus” decide to accept an eight-month-old dinner invitation on the spur of the moment (Our friendship is deeply rooted in spontaneity. It keeps things fresh!), I am faced with the drama of organizing a respectable dinner with far less than my normal prep time.

I can do this. I’ve trained for these kinds of moments. It’s what developing a culinary sensibility is about.

As soon as I hang up the phone, I spring into action. I consult the Silver Spoon cookbook – The Bible of Italian Cuisine. I pull together the essentials for a late summer feast, inspired by the ingredients and culinary heritage of Italy.

Here’s an opportunity to taste the flavors of Emilia Romagna, Tuscany and Florence again without even leaving my kitchen. I strategize over bruschetta, salad, pasta with rosemary and roast pork. What I loved most about Italy was the simplicity of the cuisine. No need for a cast of thousands, just a few outstanding ingredients. The dessert will be particularly important for these guests, as they are passionate about their sweets.

What shall it be? Frosted layer cake? Homemade ice cream? Biscotti? Cannoli? I am flummoxed by the choices.

Torta di Zucca, or Pumpkin Cake jumps off the page. Simplicity at its finest. I recall the cakes we ate in Italy. Folded together in minutes, the batters consisted of a little flour, eggs, some sugar, a distinctive flavor, and perhaps an unexpected ingredient baked in a single layer to conclude a meal with understated elegance.

Torta di Zucca offers that kind of denouement. One half-cup of sweet butter is creamed with 1 cup of superfine sugar and two eggs until light and fluffy. Next add one cup of can pumpkin puree, two cups of self-rising flour, the grated zest of one lemon, 5 tablespoons of milk and the magic ingredient – eight crushed almond biscotti. The cookie crumbs give the soft ginger-colored batter dimension, crunch and the sweet aroma of almonds. Bake for 45 minutes in a single layer.

A few sunflowers, some Italian ceramics and the stage is set for dinner in Tuscany – a perfect afternoon of food and wine for a couple of gentlemen from Verona.

And, the Torta di Zucca? No theatrics – just a rich, nuanced, memorable performance.

©2007 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved