Autumn in the village

We're embracing autumn this week with a recipe for a simple pumpkin gratin, made from what I had in the cupboards.

October is a time of endings and beginnings. In the market, there are the very last of the good tomatoes and the first of the squash and mushrooms. Bright orange kaki fruits sit in baskets where there were once peaches and melons.

On the edges of the village, the vines have been relieved of their fruit. Where only a couple of weeks ago, narrow  tractors snaked up and down harvesting the grapes, now the fields belong to the hunters. They’re usually alone or in pairs, often dressed head to toe in camouflage. The point of the camouflage – to blend in – is negated by the necessary accessories of luminous orange caps or vests, the point of which is to stay alive. Every year, half a dozen people are killed in hunting accidents, usually because from a distance, Hervé or Thierry reaching for his hipflask or mobile phone has been mistaken for the movement of a boar or a rabbit.

In the village, even though we often have warm, sunny days still, many of the women have folded away the shorts and cotton dresses and summer, and now run their daily errands in the French Woman of a Certain Kind autumnal uniform of ankle boots, floaty skirt, neat jacket and slouchy cotton or silk scarf wrapped around a couple of times. It’s not cold enough for woollen scarves yet, but soon.

Mushrooms in the market.

I must apologise for having no market haul this week. It was rather scuppered by our electrician falling from his ladder and badly hurting his elbow and hip. Within ten minutes of the accident, our hallway was filled with firefighters –firefighters are the first responders here – swiftly followed by two doctors and a nurse. Within half an hour of falling, he was in an ambulance on his way to the hospital in Sète. The swiftness and efficiency of the response was hugely impressive, but what remains with me was the kindness and dignity with which they treated their patient. I’m very grateful.

In place of a recipe drawn from my market shopping, this week I’m sharing a simple gratin recipe made from the things I already had in the larder. I hope you enjoy it.

Potimarron, Gruyère and walnut gratin

I much prefer the texture and flavour of potimarron squash to the ubiquitous butternut, with its watery flesh and puny flavour – though it’s true I will never tire of hearing French people pronounce butternut. It’s without question the most charming thing about it.

The green grocers and markets are full of fat little potimarron squashes right now, hands down my squash of choice. Their name is a combination of the French words, potiron, or pumpkin, and marron, or chestnut. In England and America, you sometimes see them labelled as red kuri squash, kuri being the Japanese for chestnut.

Another great joy of the potimarron – come sit by me, my clumsy sisters and brothers – is that they don’t require peeling. Just give them a thorough wash under the tap and crack on.

I love this easy gratin as a autumnal side dish for roast chicken, but it also makes a good, simple lunch on its own with a green salad.

Serves 2-4 depending on whether you’re serving it as a main course or a starter

A little olive oil for greasing the dish
2 small or 1 large potimarron or other squash, about 600g prepared weight, halved, seeds removed and cut into approximately 2-3cm chunks – no need to peel
3 tbsp crème fraîche
6 fresh sage leaves, finely shredded
A few grinds of nutmeg
80g walnut halves, roughly chopped
60g Gruyère cheese, grated
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Heat the oven to 200C/180C Fan/Gas 6. Lightly brush an ovenproof gratin dish or roasting tin with olive oil. I use a gratin dish that’s approximately 20cm x 30cm.

2. Put the cubes of potimarron in the gratin dish.  Stir well with the crème fraîche, sage and nutmeg then season very well with salt and pepper. Fold in two thirds of the walnuts and cheese and spread into an even layer.

3. Scatter the remaining walnuts and cheese over the top and bake for 30-35 minutes, until the potimarron is tender and the top is lightly charred.

TIP
When you’re preparing a squash or pumpkin, using an ice cream scoop makes very short work of removing the seeds.