Pain à la courge / Pan de calabaza / Pane di zucca / Pumpkin bread
Bahay kubo, kahit munti,
Ang halaman doon, ay sari–sari...
...Kundol, patola, upo't kalabasa...
("Nipa hut, even though it's small,
The plants that grow around it are varied...
...Winter melon, sponge gourd, bottle gourd, and pumpkin...")
— excerpt of the lyrics of Bahay Kubo ("Nipa Hut"), a classic children's folk song in the 🇵🇭
I seem to be pretty enchanted with this yellow–orange
vegetable lately. I know. It’s just your average and ordinary kalabasa. Maybe it’s either I’m being
nostalgic and reminiscent of my experiences of our countless trips to the palengke together with my mother or it maybe
even signs of aging? The very instant of seeing fresh produce in front of my
eyes gives me that certain giddy delight, child–like excitement, and
appreciation—or I’m just plain weird, if you like, hehe… Well, perhaps because
it is the end of winter down here in Australia and a comforting hot bowl of
soup, such as pumpkin soup, comes to my mind that would still surely warm up
our souls here in this chilly isolated city by the Indian Ocean. There’s
probably a bountiful harvest of this stout veggie this year. I’ve seen them
being sold at a bargain for only 99¢ per kg in one supermarket. I knew I had to
buy one. 😊
I’ve already done a lot of pumpkin soup in the past. So I
thought I’d cook it into something different this time: gnocchi di zucca (or pumpkin gnocchi). Gnocchi (plural of gnocco) are dumplings or small balls of
dough traditionally made from potatoes and/or flour that are boiled in water
and usually served with a sauce in Italian cuisine.
However, despite my best intentions, my pumpkin gnocchi
didn’t turn out well—lesson learned for myself, hehe... Good gnocchi is
supposed to be light and silky in texture. My first trial was quite dense and
has a heavy mouthfeel to it. I realised and learned that the pumpkin was watery—the
main culprit—and I should have left it lightly covered and have taken out the central
pulpy mass (where the seeds are) before roasting in the oven. When making the
gnocchi dough, we only add just enough flour as soon as the dough doesn’t stick
on our kneading benchtop anymore. The less flour, the better. Therefore, excess
water in the pumpkin would cause it to absorb more flour, and that would make
our gnocchi to contain more gluten resulting to a dense chewy consistency,
which we’re not after for. Later on in the evening, while consulting my books,
I chance upon reading Julia Child’s, Simone Beck’s, and Louisette Bertholle’s advice
in their great opus: “Dry out [the potatoes] by stirring them in a heavy–bottomed
saucepan over moderate heat for a minute or two until they film the bottom of
the pan. Remove from heat.”
Not wanting to waste the rest of my pumpkin gnocchi dough, I
decided to salvage it by just making it into pane di zucca (pumpkin bread). I just incorporated my little magic
helpers (i.e. yeast) to help me do
the trick. After several hours of proving—because I couldn’t find a spot that
is warm enough to encourage my dough to rise—I chucked my fluffy pillow in a
200°C oven for the finale.
The verdict? If gluten is your friend, you have a love
affair with your baked goods, and you adore pumpkin for all its simplicity and
humility, then this bright–and–optimistic–sunshine–yellow bread is for you. Its softness, utter deliciousness, and
subtle sweetness can leave you gobsmacked and wanting for more. 😋
Would you like to know the recipe of this bread that can be mistaken for brioche? Just let me know and I'll be happy to share it. 😉
P. S. The yellowness of this bread is due to the natural colour of the pumpkin flesh which can be attributed from its inherent ß–carotene content (read: nutrient, antioxidant, Vitamin A, good health). 🤓
