My husband fondly refers to my family as "The Hallmark Family," so dubbed because of our faithful exchange of cards to mark meaningful holidays and milestones such as birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, Valentine's day - we just received our Thanksgiving card in the mail yesterday. But while this seeming obsession with letting one another know that we are thinking of each other may be excessive at times, it also manifests in more practical ways. One of the best of these is my mother's gift for gift giving. Knowing how little space we have in our home for more stuff, she keeps a keen ear out for any hints I might drop about things we need or want - a bread knife for our five year anniversary, a peppermill for my birthday, and the item I apparently requested which is coming at Christmas, but which will be a complete surprise when I open it.
As a wedding gift, my mom and step-dad gave us a Sun Oven. It has turned out to be a gold star winner when it comes to fitting into our space-limited, "stuff"-intolerant lives since it spends most of it's time outside and in use, ducking under our deck only when the rain comes. And unlike so many things, we have used it more and more over the years, rather than less and less. The Sun Oven was not only a superbly practical gift, it was also a very appropriate wedding gift, for I have found that solar cooking and marriage have teamed up to teach me many of the same lessons.
On most days, the lessons are about how to slow down, take a deep breath and let go of my attachment to having things turn out a certain way. Food, like a marriage, has its own alchemy and is influenced by many changing conditions that are beyond my control. This is particularly true when cooking with the sun - rain, clouds, short winter days all have influence on the ultimate outcome. Such was the case with my solar cooked Thanksgiving dish.
By the graces of my mother-in-law, my only responsibility for Thanksgiving other than showing up, was to bring pumpkin pie. I seriously considered plopping one of those pre-made goodies into my grocery cart, but opted for the more creative and daring approach - making my very first pumpkin pie, crossing my fingers it would be a presentable and palatable offering at the Table of Thanks. Not only that, but I would make two, with real pumpkin (not the canned stuff) and cook them in the solar oven! Visions of sun-baked, steaming pumpkin pies danced in my head. I would draw the line at making the pie crusts - our local pie place happens to sell gluten-free crusts ready-to-go out of the freezer - that would be my concession to convenience.
The thing about slow cookin' with the sun though, is it takes time - it gives time in the sense that it mostly cooks itself - but you've got to give it time in return - the time it needs to bake at the rate nature deems possible on any given day. Making pumpkin pie from scratch in the solar oven would take one long day with concentrated effort ("concentrated" being a relative term when you've got a one-year-old) or two shorter days with more breathing room.
It was an ambitious plan, but entirely possible with the right conditions. The rain which came two days before Thanksgiving was not the right condition. Neither was the pediatric appointment that required two hours of driving time the day before Thanksgiving and the funky nap schedule that it resulted in. Time to let go of having things just the way I wanted them. I took a deep breath and surrendered to that act that married couples know all-to-well - I compromised. I could have canned pumpkin and sun-baked pies or fresh sun-baked pumpkin and crusts and conventional oven-baked pies, but I could not have both. I opted for the latter and hoped for more favorable conditions next year.
Even though this is not a truly solar baked pie, I share the recipe here because it's a good one and because I have faith that it is entirely possible to bake it in the Sun Oven. It is taken from Nava Atlas'
Vegetarian Celebrations (another of those practical gifts from my mother).
Pumpkin Streusel Pie (makes 1 9-inch pie)
1 2/3 cups pureed pumpkin
1 egg, beaten
1/2 to 2/3 cup light brown sugar, to taste
3/4 cup applesauce
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon each: ground ginger, allspice
9-inch pastry crust
Topping:
1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour (I used spelt instead)
1/2 cup wheat germ (I used 1/4 cup rice flour instead)
1/4 light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon each: cinnamon and nutmeg
2 tablespoons reduced-fat margarine, melted (I used butter)
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees (or as close as you can get in the solar oven)
Place the pumpkin, egg, sugar, applesauce, and spices in the container of a food processor or blender. Process until very smoothly pureed. Pour into the pie crust.
In a small bowl, stir the streusel ingredients together and quickly stir in the margarine until all the dry ingredients are lightly coated. Sprinkle evenly over the pumpkin filling. Bake for 45 minutes, or until the curst is golden and the filling is set. Let cool. Serve at room temperature.
Slow Cookin' Sol Notes:
In the morning, I cut a small hole in each of the two sugar pumpkins I had bought and put them straight into the solar oven, before leaving to take my son to the doctor. When I returned several hours later, the larger of the two pumpkins was done while the smaller of the two, was mysteriously hard (after a second attempt at cooking this one halved, I decided it was funky and gave it to the chickens for their Thanksgiving feast).

During the middle of the day, I pre-baked the crusts one at a time. To pre-bake a crust, line it with foil and fill the foil with dried beans. Normally, I wouldn't use foil in the solar oven since it reflects the sunlight and cools the oven down, but the dried beans decreased the surface are of the foil and after fifteen minutes it came out nicely firm, but not dry. (My mom suggested that in the solar oven it probably isn't necessary to use the foil since it isn't likely to brown). Once the pie crusts were pre-baked and the filling made, I gave a heaving sigh at the waning sunlight hours and slid the pies into a conventional oven for an hour.
The pies came out great. Often, things turn out so much better than in my original vision and even when they don't, there's always the opportunity for a do-over. Through trial and error, my husband and I have re-discovered the wisdom of grade-schoolers: when we're headed down the road of reactivity, one of us will pause, take a breath and ask, "Can we have a do-over?" It does wonders to diffuse the situation. Thankfully, the Sun Oven, like loving husbands, is quite forgiving and is always willing to grant me a do-over. We have a date for Thanksgiving next year.