Pumpkin is not considered a savoury ingredient here and is never served as such. More often than not, the sweet round fruit is cut in half and roasted in a moderate oven for a couple of hours until caramelly and soft.  Slices are then taken as if from a pie and eaten with a spoon for dessert. The cooked flesh is also incorporated into many typical sweets such as buñuelos (fried doughnut-style balls), or sponge cake.
This recipe comes from a neighbour of Iaia’s who is commonly referred to as La Borrassa. The intricate system of hereditary nicknaming that is an integral part of the small rural township here in Valencia never ceases to amaze (and amuse) me. This particular woman’s moniker comes from the fact that her surname is Borras. The “a” at the end denotes the fact that she is a female Borras.  But it is not always that simple. I have heard conversations that (loosely translated) run something like this:

“Did you hear what happened to Rosa?”
“Which Rosa?”
“Um, you know Carmen the Duck (daughter of Pedro the Drake), whose sister married Joe the Monkey (son of John the Monkey)?”
“Do you mean the Duck who used to live next door to Harry Bread and Oil’s mum?”
“Yes, that’s her. Well, The Duck’s cousin, Rita the Crying Woman, is Rosa’s older sister.”
“Ah. So Rosa is the younger Crying Woman! Now I know who you mean. Her husband is Man’s Head the plumber!”…

 Yes, well, in any case, here is the recipe for La Borrassa’s Pumpkin Sponge. Quantities are for a 37 x 25 cm baking tray, so fiddle them to suit your tin.

What you need:
250g roast pumpkin flesh
500g sugar
5 eggs, separated
400g plain flour
100ml sunflower oil
100ml milk
zest of 1 lemon
2 sachets (32g) baking powder

What you do:
Pre-heat your oven to 180ºC and line your baking tray/cake tin with parchment.  Mix the egg yolks and sugar together, then mash in the pumpkin. I use a fork and stop when I see the sugar starting to liquefy. Whisk in the oil and milk, then gradually sift in the flour and baking powder, mixing thoroughly between each addition. Stir in your lemon zest, then whip up your egg whites until soft peaks form before folding them into the mix too. Don’t over-mix at this stage, or you will squash all the air out, and your cake will not be as springy and spongy as it should.

Pour the batter into your prepared tin and cook for at least half an hour, testing with a skewer once this time is up. Don’t be tempted to open the oven before the 30-minute mark or your sponge will collapse. Allow to cool in the tin…if you can bear the wait.