Golden Soup!

When we were young, my mum used to make Golden Soup. I loved it (but I don't really recall much I didn't like). My sister, on the other hand, hated it. I remember one lunch time, eating hot bowls of soup, and my poor sister almost gagging on it.

My father: What's wrong?
Sister, starting to cry: It's the soup. I can't eat it.
Father: Why not? There's nothing wrong with it.
Sister: It's too salty.
Father: It's only going to get more salty if you cry into it. Eat your soup.

I think of this almost every time I eat Golden Soup (so named to make it more palatable, apparently, to children who don't want to eat pumpkin soup! Obviously, in my sister's case, not very successfully). Everyone in Australia has their own recipe for pumpkin soup - you either roast it, or you add Indian-y spices, or some chili...but this is the one I like. I made it for some mates when I lived in Dublin, and although they ate it and enjoyed it, initially they were horrified - 'pumpkin is pig's food'!

I made it today, after scrubbing my apartment top to bottom, and sitting through an Autumn downpour, and I for one think the name Golden Soup describes it's earthy warmth and glowing deliciousness perfectly. This is the bastardized version of my mum's - she got it from a recipe book (possibly Women's Weekly?) and she had written next to it 'The best pumpkin soup'; best she had underlined! Can't argue with that! I can't remember if this is it exactly, but it's the same idea.

Golden Soup
* 1/2 large pumpkin (I used a jap, it was more pumpkin-y than the butternut I usually use)
* 1 onion, halved
* 2 cloves garlic
* 1 litre chicken (or veggie) stock
* herbs of choice to garnish, salt and pepper to taste

Cut the pumpkin into chunks and leave skin on. Put the onion and garlic in bottom of saucepan and put chunks of pumpkin over the top. Add the stock and simmer for about 20mins. The pumpkin will then be really soft and you can just lift the skin of each of the pieces. The, chuck the flesh back in and puree. I have a feeling that mum puts milk or cream in at this stage, but I didn't. Ladle into a bowl, add some coriander (or whatever herbs take your fancy - and even some sour cream if you're feeling bold) and try not to cry tears of happiness when you eat it!