Thoughts on Seasonality: Why Little Kids Go Bonkers for Pumpkins

At the Farmers' Market yesterday, I noticed something. First, for probably the first time this season, pumpkins large and small were in abundance at several stalls throughout the market. Second, the kids were CRAZY over them. They were thrilled to look at them, pick them out, help their parents carry them... Why is this? In a nation of severely vegephobic children, what about pumpkins in the fall gives kids such a thrill? Maybe it's just that they associate them with the holiday beloved of all youth, Halloween (also known to the under-12 crowd as National Free Candy Day), but I think there might be other reasons. There are a small number of fruits and veggies in the U.S. that still make only seasonally appropriate appearances - even at large chain grocery stores. Among them, of course are several members of the cucurbit family, such as watermelons and pumpkins. Watermelons (whole ones, anyway) are still associated with the heat of summer and pumpkins with the coming of fall. Both fruits seem to be fairly popular with kids, which I think gives us some insight into the thrills of seasonal eating. Sure, watermelons are bright colored and sweet and (at least until recently when the seedless varieties came on the scene - perhaps the subject of another blog entry...) come equipped with shiny little black seeds that have fostered many a distance-spitting competition. Pumpkins are equally delightful, with their bright orange hue and their slimy innards. They are both an art supply (canvass for the Jack-O-Lantern) and dessert (pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pumpkin ice cream...). But other similarly astounding fruits and veggies, available year round, don't seem to have the same rapport with kids (broccoli, for instance - little magic trees; brussels sprouts - mini cabbages?). OK, so maybe I'm stretching this, but is it too much to think that maybe one of the reasons kids go bonkers over pumpkins is the same reason folks tuned into food's seasonality look forward to asparagus in the spring, strawberries in early summer, tomatoes in July and August, kale and spinach into the cold months and fresh apple cider in the fall? Sometimes the old saying is true - distance does make the heart grow fonder. We don't see whole pumpkins year-round, so their appearance in September and October feels like a special occasion.

Maybe I'm over-romanticizing, but I think this thrill at the arrival of a new fruit or vegetable season (coupled of course, with the sadness of the end of others) is important. Americans have such a problematic relationship to food - too many of us eat too much (or not enough, as we succumb to bizarre fad diets or the like) that our view of food, like the system that produces it, has become industrial, and really, kind of boring. For me, waiting for things to come into season has brought new joy to food and cooking that I might have otherwise missed out on. I wonder if that wouldn't make a difference for more of us if we allowed ourselves the opportunity to eat the rest of the cornucopia with the seasonal reverence currently reserved for the pumpkin.