As the leaves start to fall and yoga pants become de rigueur, the pumpkin-pie-spiced chai-lattes/ice-creams/beer/candy are suddenly omnipresent. In the midst of these autumn flavors, it seems no one really gives any respect to the pumpkin.

But pumpkin pie, you cry! Oh, how original. And let’s be honest, most of the pumpkin pies out there are terrible with soggy crusts and tepid fillings.

It’s a real shame as the pumpkin (or squash) can be so much more and is often relegated to seasonal mediocrity of far too much spicing and overzealous sweetening. Yes, technically pumpkins are fruits. Berries, to be botanically exact. Great, what do I do with that kind of information?

Journalist Miles Kington once said, “Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing that a tomato doesn’t belong in a fruit salad.” Rightly so, as pumpkins are really best thought of as root vegetables in a savory preparation.

I’ve never had a bad butternut squash, my favorite of the varieties and most the versatile. I like to choose the more provocative-looking specimens as they make great conversation starters on overcompensating for smaller vegetables.

Peel and cut into large chunks and roast with some oil and butter and a good pinch of salt and pepper at 400 degrees Fahrenheit for about 30-40 minutes, depending on how firm you like it. Prod them while they’re cooking if you want, or don’t — just make sure they roast evenly.

The natural sweetness often goes well with just about anything. Turn it into mashed pumpkin and hit it up with butter and milk like you would potatoes. Whole chunks turned into a warm salad with salty and earthy flavors like blue cheese and walnuts are highly encouraged.

An addition of cured tubular mystery meat makes a quick meal that can be put in a lunch box for campus consumption. Make gnocchi if you know how, put into a pizza, or blend and turn into a soup with bacon and scallions.

If you want to go the Asian route as I had it growing up, skip the roasting and stir fry small chunks in oyster/soy sauce, chilies, copious amounts of garlic, and a couple of eggs into a pumpkin-scramble sort of concoction.

If you’re feeling Thai, put some into a curry: green, yellow, red or otherwise. The ambitious ones will make tempura via Japan, but that requires deep frying and some technical skills involving not burning food.

But OK, you absolutely must have a pie because of tradition’s sake. I would encourage making your own pastry, but students don’t have the time, so buy a pre-made shell. At the very least, make your own purée — it’s far better than the canned stuff, and you can control how sweet and spiced you want it.  

Get a sugar pumpkin since they’re in season now and particularly good for pie making because, as the name suggests, they’re sweeter than your average carving pumpkin. Avoid boiling or steaming them, and follow the protocol above for roasting, omitting pepper and adding some brown sugar (keep the salt).

When soft, blend in a food processor or hand blender; chop and make a mess if you don’t have either. Let it sit over a sieve and drain if there’s excess liquid.

This is a great base that you can then tweak with desired amount of cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. Caution, go easy on the spicing as it can get overwhelming quick, and eating a spice-rack pie is filthy.

To avoid a soggy crust, bake it blind, meaning pre-cook your shell first. This protects the base from excess sogginess and gives you a contrasting effect of hopefully a soft quivering filling and a flaky textured shell. 

Continue the recipe as you normally do, and when ready, eat and feel sick from the repetitive dull flavors and be reminded that pumpkin pie is really not that great.

Proceed to make pumpkin and egg stir fry.