In another time and another life, autumn became more than it had ever been to me. It became a magical time which meant shorter days, longer nights, chilly ears and, often, a sojourn to another country where there Americanisation of Halloween lent its magic to a (mostly) peaceful landscape where I could rest, read and recharge for a few days surrounded by a family that, though not mine, had nonetheless warmly welcomed me.

I wrote that a year ago, almost to the day, in a post on the (somewhat mothballed) previous version of this blog, entitled "Reclaiming Autumn", where I talked about how I came to love, lose and reclaim Pumpkin Soup as my talisman of Autumn.

I'd forgotten the exact date I wrote that, until I went to look for that post when writing this one, and had a bit of a laugh to myself, because it was exactly a year and one day later that I made Pumpkin Soup again.

This year's audience was mostly the same as last years (minus a brother-in-law to be) but the soup was extra special, because among it, was the pride of my foray into growing my own veg - a home grown pumpkin.

Of all the veg I grew this year, the pumpkin was special. Yes, fresh salad is nice, home grown strawberries are lovely and eating baby sweetcorn right from the plant is fun, I'd have forgone them all for my pumpkin.

It's been sitting in the kitchen for a few weeks now, ripening nicely among its larger, shop-bought cousins (a pumpkin a day makes Ann a ridiculously happy girl, especially given their short period of availability) and part of me wanted to keep it, I'd spent so long growing this thing that I had to know if it was actually a real pumpkin inside, so with a wee bit of a lump in my throat, I cut it up, ready to roast, and thence, to become soup.

When I wrote about pumpkin soup last year, a few people asked for a recipe, and at the time I couldn't provide one, because I hadn't written down what I'd done, so this year, I paid attention.

I should point out that this is by no means a tested or scientific recipe. I don't tend to do weights and measures, so your mileage may very well vary.

Pixeldiva's Pumpkin Soup

Ingredients

Pumpkins (I used 3, around 1kg each) Shallots (5 medium sized ones) Garlic (1 bulb) Stock (I used chicken, but you could use vegetable, if you're that way inclined) Herbs de Provence (about 2 teaspoons) Cumin (about 2 teaspoons) Cinnamon (about 1 teaspoon) Salt Pepper Butter Olive Oil Double cream (for serving)

Method

Cut each pumpkin in quarters, and scoop out the gunk in the middle. Then cut each quarter in half again, so you have eight pumpkin wedges per pumpkin. Lay these out on a baking tray or roasting dish, and scatter about a bulb's worth of garlic cloves around the pumpkin. Drizzle some olive oil over the tip, scatter some salt, and put in an oven that's been pre-heated to 200°C for about 30 minutes, or until nicely roasted.

Finely chop the shallots, and gently fry them with a wee bit of butter and olive oil in the bottom of whatever pot you intend to make your soup in.

Peel the skin off the pumpkin (it should come off reasonably well with the aid of a reasonably sharp knife) and put the mushy pumpkin bits in the pot with the shallots. Then grab the roasted garlic cloves and squeeze their innards into the put too.

Throw in some herbs de provence (or mixed herbs), cumin and cinnamon and mush the whole lot up, before adding enough stock to cover the mush, plus about half an inch of water above (sorry, I know that's not a very exact description).

Let this simmer for a while until it goes even more mushy, and then taste. Season with salt and pepper (and more cumin or herbs) if you feel it needs it. Otherwise, get your hand blender out and try not to cover the kitchen in soup while you get carried away with the joy of blending.

Serve with a dribble of cream and a grind of black pepper, and enjoy.

This makes enough for four people, with enough left over for a large bowl later, when lunch or dinner is a distant memory and handknit slippers and crocheted lap blankets (or your equivalents) aren't quite enough to keep you warm.

Very Berry Smoothie Muesli The HFBB requested "something different, but healthy" for breakfast today. He gets a bit spoiled during the week. Living in a hotel has its upsides, and one of them has to be the fabulous cooked breakfast he gets, but after nine months, even that gets a little old (not to mention a wee shade troubling for the old cholesterol).

We quite often have smoked salmon and either scrambled or poached eggs (now that I've got the technique down) at the weekend, but even that can get samey, so I thought I'd try something entirely different today. After rather too long wandering around Sainsbury's, I came up with the idea of a bowl of Very Berry Smoothie Muesli. Using fat-free yoghurt it's low fat, moderate GL and counts towards this 5 a day malarkey they keep going on about. Even better, it tastes good too. Result!

Ingredients

Some berries (I used a Sainsbury's berry mix pack, which had strawberries, blackberries and blueberries)
Some fat-free yoghurt (I used Yeo Valley Organic Fat-free Vanilla, correctly figuring it might be a little sweeter than natural yoghurt)
Some muesli (You can make your own if you like that sort of thing. I couldn't be arsed, so spent 20 minutes in the muesli aisle trying to pick the best compromise between interest, taste and health factors and went with Dorset Cereals Fantastically Fruity Roasted & Toasted Muesli)

Equipment needed

Blender
Spoon
Ramekin
Bowl
Glass

Method

Berries in a blender

Coulis in the blender

Prepare your berries (wash them, dry them, and take the stalks off the strawberries) and then throw them into your blender. Give them a good whizz until you have a berry coulis.

Berry coulis in a ramekin

Bowl, muesli and yoghurt

Set aside some of your berry coulis in a ramekin or whatever you have to hand, and get out your muesli and yoghurt.

Muesli in a bowl

Admire the really lovely packaging of the museli for a minute, before opening it carefully and putting some muesli in the bowl.

Make sure the museli stays fresh by raking round the kitchen until you find one of those bag seal clippy things and putting it on the bag. Redo clip and bag a few times so you don't ruin the aesthetics of the packaging.

Smoothie in blender

Open the yoghurt.

Bonus points if you manage to do this without getting a little splurt of prematurely ejaculated yoghurt on the worktop.

Turn the coulis into a smoothie by pouring some yoghurt into the blender and blending it all together. I used about half the yoghurt (250ml).

Smoothie, muesli and coulis mixed together

Pour some of your smoothie over the muesli, and mix it together with a spoon. Adjust the dry/wet ratio to suit your own taste by adding less smoothie or more cereal, depending on whether you went a little heavy handed with the smoothie pouring first time out.

Find the ramekin with the coulis in it, and pour some of the coulis over the top, to try and appear a bit posh.

Eat, and feel virtuous.

Coulis and smoothie in a glass

Pour any leftover smoothie into a glass, and pour any leftover coulis in the middle of it. This can then be put into the fridge to give you a bit of an energy boost later in the day.

One pack of berries and half a pot of yoghurt is enough for two bowls of very berry smoothie muesli, or one bowl, and an IKEA glass full of smoothie for later.