Jano Szekeres

This year, something happened that I'd been waiting a long time for—I won first place at the local pumpkin festival. My pumpkin weighed 760 kilograms, and it was a beauty, not just big but a proper pumpkin in every sense. I've been a farmer for over four decades, living with my family near Debrecen, Hungary, and for the last ten years, I've been entering the pumpkin contest. It’s mostly for fun, though it also helps promote the rest of my produce.

This year, though, I could tell early on that I had something special. The summer was kind, and with the right care, some of my pumpkins grew enormous. But it’s not just size that matters to me. You see, a lot of the giant pumpkins people grow look more like blobs of pale squash than pumpkins. Misshapen, white, and not something you’d want to carve or eat. Mine, though, was a rich, orange-brown beauty—round, symmetrical, and proud.

There’s no real secret to growing them, just a lot of attention. I spent ten, sometimes twenty hours a week on that pumpkin alone, making sure all the plant’s energy went to the one fruit. I buried the side vines to encourage extra roots, and I guarded it fiercely, smearing the pumpkin with garlic and chili paste to keep critters away. It worked. But you have to be careful—it can grow too fast and split. That’s the last thing you want after months of work.

At 68, I can still handle most things, but I won’t lie, getting that 760-kilo beast to the competition took every bit of help I could get. My children did a lot of the heavy lifting, literally and figuratively. I’ll be handing the torch to them soon enough.

As for the pumpkin itself, it won’t end up in anyone’s kitchen. It’s edible but bland, so the animals will get the honor of eating it. They don't care if it won first place or not.