Since moving
to the Hessian countryside from Tokyo in 2007, my German husband and I have
been amused every autumn to see the Hokkaidokürbis
(lit. Hokkaido pumpkin aka kuri kabocha 栗カボチャ) go on sale. .
. and not only for the cute extra
emphasis Germans put on the letter “i” when they say “Ho–ka–ee–do”. Having traversed the width and breadth of
Hokkaido, we had never seen this onion-shaped, relatively small dark orange
pumpkin either on sale or growing in Japan’s northernmost island. The majority of pumpkin growing does indeed
take place in Hokkaido but the dark green kabocha (かぼちゃ) and the larger orange pumpkin associated with
Halloween are the most commonly seen in Japanese supermarkets. Whenever
we have Japanese guests in the fall and winter months, I serve them the a dish
made with Hokkaidokürbis and they are
inevitably also amused when we tell them what the Germans call the winter
squash. My curiosity was further piqued
by the fact that Hokkaidokürbis only
has dedicated Wikipedia pages in German, French (potimarron), and English (red kuri squash)
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| Carving a pumpkin with my kids in Nishikata (Bunkyo-ku) in October 2006 |
This year, I
decided to satisfy my curiosity by doing some research into the Hokkaidokürbis. First, the riddle of how my husband, a
botanist who grew up here in Germany, was unfamiliar with this variety of
squash. Squash, apparently, was not as
common on the table of his childhood home in Lower Saxony as it was for me
growing up in Canada. It also turns out
that the Hokkaidokürbis variety of
squash was introduced to Europe in the 1990s – a decade in which my husband had
begun to spend extended periods of time studying or doing research in Hokkaido. I guess it just hadn’t become fashionable yet
among his student friends in Marburg during the times he was on home soil.
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| Red kuri squash bread - the "Orange Revolution" (Gießen, October 2013) |
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| Hokkaidokürbisbort (red kuri squash bread) from Siebenkorn. |
Next, the
question of the origins of the Hokkaidokürbis
itself. Obviously, pumpkins are not
native to Japan. Winter squash come from
the Americas and did not even make their way to Europe until sometime after
1492. According to an article in the Süddeutsche Zeitung
Magazine, the first pumpkin to make its way to Japan was the Hubbard
squash (known in Japan as Masakari kabocha)
in 1878. It was introduced to farmers in
Hokkaido by American agricultural experts, but the locals were not satisfied
with the qualities of the humble Hubbard squash. They cultivated the squash from dark green-blue
into a bright blood orange colour which they named Kuri aji (Cucurbita maxima
convar Hubbardiana). “Kuri” means chestnut and “aji” means taste – hence the French name
potimarron (“poti” from potiron=pumpkin;
marron=chestnut). And indeed, the Hokkaidokürbis does have a nutty flavour to it. Trawling around the internet, I found a
similar looking pumpkin on Yasai
Navi that goes by the name Akaikuru-kuri-kabocha
(赤皮栗かぼちゃ) – literally red-skinned chestnut pumpkin.
I must admit
that I do like the flavour of and diversity of uses for the Hokkaidokürbis. As much as I
enjoy kabocha, the mild,
nutty taste of the Hokkaidokürbis has really grown on me. As I discover just how flexible the squash is
for cooking, it has even begun to surpass my heretofore favourite squash – the cream-coloured
butternut squash (バタ—ナッツ) –
in my affections. Its medium size (1 to
2kg) makes it perfect for soup for 4-5 people.
It holds its form well and with its bright red-orange skin it looks
lovely in a risotto or other mixed dish.
It also bakes well in the oven.
Now that I’ve come to know the pumpkin here in Germany, I’m actually
surprised that is a specialty variety in Japan itself. I think with a bit of marketing behind it,
the beautiful and delicious red kuri
squash could give dark green kabocha a run
for its money.
Catherine Munroe Hotes 2013
