Turnip it was in my day, and gosh were they hard to carve! Carve is slightly optimistic: hack at would be more accurate. Slipping back through the years, on our October 31st afternoons I can remember ...
- starting to gouge out the hard yellow inside with enthusiasm, and slumping half-way through when the enormity of the task came home
- blistered knuckles on the forefingers from gripping the short-bladed knives (what were my parents thinking?)
- the argy-bargy with my brothers over whose turn it was to wrap the thrupenny bit in greaseproof paper and hide it under a layer of sliced windfall apples in the pie
- the welcome respite to position the pastry top, under Mum's watchful eye, and flute the edges: privilege of the eldest
- the smell of cooking turnip once we'd put the lid on and the candles inside: anyone else remember?
Inspired by Alisa Burke, our pumpkins are sporting coloured coats this year, with their insides intact ...