The Pumpkin Period

 There have been five mass extinction events in the history of the world: The Ordovician-Silurian Extinction, 440 million years ago, Devonian Extinction, 365 million years ago, the Permian-Triassic Extinction, 250 million years ago, the Triassic-Jurassic Extinction, 210 million years ago and the Cretaceous-tertiary Extinction, 65 million Years Ago. I am occasionally driven to think about those events plodding my way through evolutionary periods of another sort. Currently, you may have noticed, we are mired in the Pumpkin Period, characterized by the flavor of pumpkin in almost everything, a consequence—it must be—of sediment from a giant pumpkin asteroid hitting the earth sometime in the last several years when no one was paying attention.  

There are pumpkin Cheerios, pumpkin Oreos, pumpkin protein shakes, pumpkin beer, pumpkin lattes, muffins (of course), jellybeans, popcorn, butter, dog treats (as if Huckleberry would notice), recipes for pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. You get the idea. The only thing that may be safe are eggs. As for other proteins, someone has already conjured a pumpkin barbeque sauce to slather over meat, fish and poultry. 

For younger people who may not be aware, the current Pumpkin Period is the fifth such evolutionary tract of time over the last generation. I can recap the others, beginning with the Chardonnay Period that lasted roughly through the 1980s. This was a time of America’s early ascendency in wine, led by its rich, buttery, cocktail party chardonnays that became omnipresent and inescapable. 

The Chardonay Period was followed by the Blackened Redfish Period, which sent waves around the globe, blackening other fish, meats, chicken, vegetables, tacos. It may still be possible to purchase blackened whiskey. Blackened-everything permeated the menu strata to the lowest levels.

On its heels was the Pesto Period, an age of (mostly) green, garlicky sauces, pastas, crackers, and dips that exploded onto grocery aisles and into pantries. For a while, we were awash in pine nuts and basil.

And then, in a flashback to episodes of the Ordovician and Triassic periods, the world was covered by molten chocolate cake. Lava-like desserts erupted everywhere, leading to a long period of tremulous activity that has finally retreated to the core. Meaning, we do not see it anymore, or pesto at every party, or blackened sirloin on every grill, or cloying chardonnays that beg for a cleansing sip of any neutral grain spirit.

But, alas, it is clear as I drive around Monadnock that we are in the thick of Pumpkin Period. I like pumpkin. I revere it in pie, and its seeds, toasted and sprinkled over salad. I like it carved into jack-o-lanterns, or as an occasional crock for soup, provided it is autumn, cold outside, and dark early. While I suppose I could also like pumpkin popcorn, pumpkin beer, and pumpkin muffins, nature has let us know numerous times, there are limits. It can cope with only so much. Too much pumpkin and we could lose our taste for it entirely, which is what took down the molten cakes and pesto’s that were once so populous on earth.

So, I avoid it. Almost impossible, but I try. There was nothing I could do about a pumpkin cheesecake that was put in front of me recently except dive under the table, or pretend my mother was calling. I felt I should do neither. I came home with a 12-pack variety of Long Trail beer and three of them were pumpkin. I drank the last harvest IPA over the weekend. Only the bottles of pumpkin ale remain.

I rely on science but it is not particularly helpful predicting the end of these episodes. I estimate we are at least five to seven years into the Pumpkin Period with maybe three to four to go. 

I put the question of what might be next to my AI pal, ChatBrutus, who spun something related to sustainability and local food. For itself, ChatBrutus fancies a curry. That tells me something. It tells me to anticipate good curry showing up in the prepared food sections and drive-throughs in the years to come.

Published in the Monadnock Ledger-Transcript, October 22, 2024