By The week before Thanksgiving. Helen has entered what I privately call the Thanksgiving State, a condition of organized focus that begins this Monday and does not relax until the last dish is dried Thursday evening. I respect it completely. I stay out of the kitchen except at the two assigned moments: potato peeling and giblet removal. I have never forgotten the giblets. This is a point of some pride.
The turkey is ordered from the Charlotte farm, to be picked up Wednesday. Helen will brine it overnight in her salt-and-cider solution. The recipe card for the turkey is on the counter — the index card in her handwriting with the notes accumulated over twenty years of refinements. The note I find most useful: "The last two hours are the best two hours. The house smells perfect." She is right. She is always right about these things.
The full family this year: David and Karen with Teddy, Anna, and James; Sarah and Tom with Ben and Lucy. Eleven people around the table, twelve if you count Frost, who counts himself and should be counted. It is a full house. The farmhouse was built to hold this many people and it knows it and it rises to the occasion every time. I have been in this house for my whole life and I know when it is doing its best work. Thanksgiving is when it does its best work.
I made a cranberry tart this week as a trial run — cranberries cooked down with sugar and orange zest, poured into a pre-baked shell, served with whipped cream. It was good enough that Helen said I should bring it to Thanksgiving in addition to her pie, not instead of it. I said the table might not accommodate two desserts. She said the table can accommodate whatever we put on it. This is true. It always has been.
The cranberry tart made its case, and Helen ruled that the table could hold it — which put me in mind of a second dessert I’ve been meaning to try at this time of year: a pumpkin crunch cake that requires no particular skill, survives the drive from kitchen to farmhouse table, and holds up to eleven people plus a dog who believes he counts. If Helen’s pie is the anchor, something like this is the thing you bring to fill in the edges — spiced, substantial, and impossible to argue with at Thanksgiving.
Pumpkin Crunch Cake
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 can (15 oz) pumpkin puree
- 1 can (12 oz) evaporated milk
- 3 large eggs
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 box (15.25 oz) yellow cake mix
- 1 cup chopped pecans
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, melted
- Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, for serving
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan.
- Make the pumpkin base. In a large bowl, whisk together pumpkin puree, evaporated milk, eggs, sugar, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and salt until smooth. Pour into the prepared pan.
- Add the crunch topping. Sprinkle the dry cake mix evenly over the pumpkin layer. Do not stir. Scatter the chopped pecans over the cake mix.
- Add the butter. Drizzle the melted butter evenly over the entire surface, covering as much of the dry cake mix as possible.
- Bake. Bake for 45–50 minutes, until the top is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out mostly clean. The edges will be set and the center should not jiggle.
- Cool before cutting. Let the cake cool in the pan for at least 20 minutes before slicing. Serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 26g | Carbs: 58g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 420mg