Donuts In The Pumpkin Patch

 

Corn mazes. Fodder shocks. Pumpkin patches. 

Yep, it's coming on autumn. The vibrancy of summer has slowly slipped into the calming pace of fall. Crisp cool breezes dance through the trees, gently releasing their worn leaves to scatter over long shadows on the tired grass. Like summer, autumn will be very different  in our new normal. Still, we'll navigate the changes as we cling to familiarity. While gushingly ripe summer tomatoes, thin skinned cucumbers, tender summer squash, mush melon, honeydew melon, green beans, and fresh picked corn might be fading away, we have a new season to  celebrate. We'll cling to  pumpkins, winter squash, potatoes, and hardy greens to get us through our autumnal  new normal. 

And, through it all, there will always be pumpkin spice. And donuts.

As much as the pumpkin spice forces tried  to rush us into fall before we were ready, it is finally pumpkin spice's time.

So, go ahead, put it in anything and everything. Make pies, muffins, pancakes, coffees, and scented whipped creams. Or simply dab it behind your ears. It's pumpkin spice season. And, now, we're ready.

Maple Glazed Pumpkin Donuts With Candied Bacon.

Lord knows. I have and will fry anything. If it'll fit in a fryer, I'll fry it. Like most folks, I'm a fool for fried donuts dripping with glaze. That said, I went down the baked donut route with these pumpkin-y donuts because they're  consistent and easier to work with. 

Time to make the donuts.

Glaze/Donut lipstick. Oh sure, for a subtle matte lipstick, cinnamon dusted donuts are great. In fact, these donuts are fabulous with a simple sugar dusting. But, no no no, I wanted shiny lipstick. Bawdy, even. I combined  1 1/3 cups powdered sugar, 2 tablespoons pure maple syrup, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, 2 tablespoons milk, and 1 teaspoon Oberholtzer sorghum before whisking the glaze until it was just thick and thin enough to drape the donuts.

Bacon. After completely coating and covering 6 slices thick cut bacon with light brown sugar, I placed them directly onto  a foil lined sheet pan (no wire rack) and slid them into a preheated 350 degree oven. As the they started to caramelize and crisp, I turned the bacon and swept it through the sweet sticky bacon fat, returned it to oven, repeated the flip/swipe until the bacon candied in its own fat., and removed it to wire rack to cool. Think about it.

Dough. So, fresh or canned pumpkin? Although completely interchangeable, I get a kick out of roasting fresh pumpkins. More savory than sweet, fresh pumpkin seems to have a cleaner flavor. And, why not? It's pumpkin season. After halving and seeding 2 Madison County fresh sugar pumpkins, I roasted them in a 350 degree oven until they collapsed ( about 45 minutes), let them cool to the touch, scraped the warm flesh into a blender, and pureed the pumpkin until smooth.

After scooping 2 cups pumpkin puree into a large mixing bowl, I added 1 1/2 cups sugar, 1/3 cup vegetable oil, 4 tablespoons melted butter and 3 large organic eggs. Using an old school hand held mixer, I blended the wet mixture until well combined and silky smooth.

I sifted 2 cups Wiesenberger Mill all purpose flour, 2 teaspoons pumpkin spice (ground cloves, ground

cinnamon, ground allspice, ground ginger, ground nutmeg), 2 teaspoons baking powder, and 1 teaspoon salt into a smaller mixing bowl. After a quick whisk to combine, I added the spiced flour to the pumpkin puree, and gently folded the two together until well incorporated (without overworking the batter). 

To make life easier, I spooned the donut dough into a pastry bag and piped it into 2  oil-sprayed silicone donut molds, cleaned the edges, placed the molds onto a sheet pan, and slid them into a preheated 350 degree oven for 15 minutes. When cooked though (clean toothpick test), I pulled the donuts from the oven and let them rest for 5 minutes for turning them out onto 2 wire racks to cool.

When almost completely cooled, I dipped the donuts into the maple glaze and  let the excess swirl backinto the bowl before finishing with shards of candied bacon.

Suspended under the slightly hardened glaze, the baked donuts were soft, tender, and as light as air. While the warming pumpkin spice punched through the rich caramel-like maple glaze, the candied bacon added salty sweet crunch.

Sticky.

Sweet.

Salty.

Donuts in the pumpkin patch.

Get your spice on.

Pumpkin Spice

It's pumpkin time! All varieties and sizes are popping up everywhere.
Right now, seguing into autumn, pie pumpkins are the darlings of our local markets. Try as we might to fight the seasonal change, pie pumpkins beckon and call. Their demure scruffiness kindles autumnal dreams of scratch  made pies on cool lazy days.

That said, pie pumpkins aren't just for pie.


Pumpkin Beignets With Salted Dulce De Leche.

Pumpkin Puree.
So, canned pumpkin or fresh pumpkin? Let the debate begin. While most folks agree that there is very little taste difference between either fresh or canned pumpkin puree, fresh puree has a lighter texture compared to the compacted dense texture of canned. . When incorporating it into airy deep fried doughnuts, lightness is key.  While it might be a little more liquidy than the canned stuff, a few extra steps easily eliminates the wet factor. Obviously, canned pumpkin is a bit more convenient and accessible, but when everything's coming up pumpkins at our local farmers' markets, fresh pumpkin puree is the way to go.

After rinsing 3 Casey County pie pumpkins (about 1 1/2 pounds each), I split them in half, scooped out the stringy seeds, placed them cut side down on parchment paper-lined sheet pans, and slid them
into a preheated  375 degree oven to roast for 40-45 minutes. When  knife tender, I pulled them from the oven to cool before carefully scraping the softened flesh from the wilted skins.  After picking  out a few stray wandering bits from the cooked pumpkin, I pureed it in a food processor (in batches), and spooned it into a fine mesh sieve set over a bowl to drain for 30 minutes. To help evaporate additional excess moisture, I placed the puree in a saute pan over a low flame, simmered it for 30 minutes, pulled it from the heat, and set it aside to
cool. The whole shebang netted about 3 cups pureed pumpkin.


Salted Dulce De Leche.
Again, baked canned sweetened condensed milk or the  fresher stove top version? Since I ditched the can for the pumpkin puree, I went with the fresh version.

After stirring together 4 cups milk, 1 1/4 cups sugar, 1/4 teaspoon baking soda in a heavy saucepan, I brought the mix to a boil, reduced the heat, and simmered it for about 1 1/2 hours until it thickened and caramelized. I pulled the dulce de leche from the heat and added 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract along with 2 teaspoons flaked sea salt before setting it aside.

Bienets. 
Go nuts for dough.
I sprinkled 1 1/2 teaspoons instant yeast over 1/4 cup warm water in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook. When the yeast proofed, I added 3/4 cup pumpkin puree, 1/4 cup sugar, 2 beaten eggs, 2 tablespoons melted butter, a pinch of salt, and a 1/4 cup heavy cream. After mixing the wet ingredients on a low speed, I added 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoons ground ginger, 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg, and a pinch of ground cloves before gradually adding 4 cups all-purpose flour. When the dough pulled away from the bowl and formed a smooth pliable dough, I covered it with a clean dish towel to rise.

After the dough doubled in size, I turned it onto a floured work board, patted it down, rolled the dough 1/4" thick, cut it into diamonds, and covered it to rise again for 1 1/2 hours.

Fry.
Time to make the doughnuts.
I heated vegetable oil ( 3" deep) in a heavy dutch oven until it reached 380 degrees. Working in batches, I carefully slipped the beignet diamonds into the hot oil and fried them for about 2 minutes per side to puff up and brown before scooping them out onto paper towels to catch any excess oil. While they were still warm, I showered the pillowy beignets with powdered sugar and nestled the salted dulce de leche to the side.

Crisp.
Puffy.
Utterly messy.
Like eating powdery pumpkin-spiced clouds.

Pass the dulche de leche.

Fabulous.

You Say Pumpkin, I Say Pasta.

As much as I adore summer and the abundant ripe produce, I am, at heart, a total sucker for autumn. Slowly, summer segues into fall without a big aha moment and everything changes. Crisp air, cool breezes, long cast shadows, and the sultry colors of fall  replace the wild vibrancy of summer. We all have our autumn triggers. Football. Horse racing. Pool closings. School openings. While we might resist the change, pumpkin spice seems to rush the process as we slowly adapt. The early onset of pumpkin spiced everything might be the pre-trigger to my trigger.  For me, the flood of sugar pumpkins (or pie pumpkins), winter squash, ornamental gourds, and late season produce at our local markets sets my autumn rhythm. Grow it and I will come. Pull me into the season.

While I'm a big fan of sweet pumpkin things (pie, cake, muffins, lattes, on and on and on), I  embrace the savory earthiness of pumpkin. Much like butternut squash, acorn squash, or any other variety, sugar pumpkins have no bounds when it comes to application.  Sweet or savory, the sky's the limit. Oh sure, I'm all over versions of maple brown sugar roasted winter squash, but at the end of the day, I'm on team savory. Salted. Roasted. Whipped. Stuffed. Mashed. I'm down with them all. More often than not, when winter squash hit the markets, I jump on the pasta bandwagon. The sexy silken texture and warm earthy undertones of pureed squash pairs perfectly with pasta. Typically, I fill ravioli, layer lasagna, or load jumbo par-cooked manicotti shells with winter squash purees.  Right now, on the cusp of change, it's pumpkin time. Seguing into fall after a stroll through a pumpkin patch, I turned things inside out with savory pumpkin flavored pasta.

Pumpkin Garganelli (Ribbed Penne Pasta) with Pumpkin Brown Butter and Fried Sage.

Puree.
Canned or fresh? While canned is fantastic and agreeably much more convenient, why not take a
little detour with fresh local pumpkin?

After scrubbing and rinsing 3 medium sized Casey County sugar pumpkins, I split them half, scooped out the seeds, placed them cut side down onto parchment paper-lined sheet pans, and slid them into a preheated 350 degree oven. When the skins were knife tender and the flesh softened (about 45 minutes), I pulled the pumpkin halves from the oven, scooped out the flesh, and blended it in batches for a smooth puree. To pull out any excess moisture from the puree, I spooned it into a large sauce pan set over a medium flame, let it reduce until it thickened, pulled it from the heat, and set it aside.

Pumpkin Pasta.
Garganelli.
Without a pasta extruder to form the short hollow shapes, scratch made tubular pasta can be tricky. Garganelli pasta is hand rolled on a garganelli board to form the ribbed tubes, leaving visible external seams that distinguishes it from extruded penne pasta.

Flour. Eggs. Olive oil. Salt.
Ratio ratio ratio.
Scratch made pasta needs to feel right.
After sifting 2 cups all purpose flour into a soft pillowy mound, I formed a well in the center before adding 2 large local eggs yolks, 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1/3 cup of the reserved pumpkin puree, and 1 tablespoon olive oil. Working from the outside in, I  pulled the flour into the well bit by bit, mixing it with the egg/puree combo until it formed a rough dough. I gathered the dough into a ball, kneaded it for 20 minutes until smooth, wrapped it in plastic wrap, and set it aside to rest.

After 45 minutes, I divided the dough into eights. Working with one piece at a time (keeping the remainder covered in plastic to prevent drying out), I rolled the dough through a pasta roller, narrowing the setting after each pass until I reached the second to last setting on the pasta machine. With the pasta rolled out into sheets, I trimmed them into workable lengths, floured them, stacked them onto each other, cut them into 2" squares, and set them aside to dry just a tad.

Without a garganelli board,  I simply could have rolled the pasta squares on a floured work surface for smooth garganelli. Scratch made penne for the win.

Rolling right along.
I placed each pasta square (pointed sides vertical) onto the ribbed garganelli board and, starting from the corner ends, rolled each piece around a small floured wooden dowel before sliding them off of the dowel onto a floured work board and setting them aside.
Roll. Press. Repeat.





Getting Saucy.
Not wanting the kill the delicate pasta in a heavy sauce, I took the brown butter-ish route.

I place a sauce pan over a medium high flame and carefully tumbled 8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter into the hot pan. When the butter started to sizzle, I tossed a handful of fresh sage into the butter, flashed fried it until crisp, scooped the sage onto paper towels to drain, and reduced the heat to medium.  There's a fine line between browned butter and burned butter. It goes fast. The moment  the butter turned toasty-brown, I carefully added 2 tablespoons  white balsamic vinegar, let the butter settle down, and whisked 1/4 cup pumpkin puree into the mix before pulling the sauce from the heat.

After bringing a large pot of water to a rolling boil, I hit it with salt and dropped the ribbed penne pumpkin pasta into the water. When the pasta floated to the top, I scooped them into the brown butter pumpkin sauce and  used 1/2 cup pasta water to loosen the sauce before finishing with flaked sea salt, curled cracked black pepper parmigiano-reggiano crisps and fried sage.

Insanely light, the loosey-goosey sauce swirled through the pasta, clinging to the soft ridges. While the whisper thin fried sage added delicate airy crunch, the white balsamic provided hints of acidity that poked through the sage-infused fat of the nutty brown butter and the subtle earthy undertones of the roasted pumpkin puree.


Fresh.
Fun.
Fabulous.

Get your pumpkin on.