I spent the whole summer being amazed at the fervor with which tiny seeds sprang into sunflowers so tall I couldn’t reach the blooms, basil so prolific I’ll eat pesto all winter, and okra stalks so thick I had to saw through them to prepare the soil for something new.
That amazement has turned into a jaw-dropping situation this fall.
Is this what you’re like when you have your first kid? Utterly astonished and fishing for a camera every time it does anything?
A couple of months ago, I adopted an additional empty plot at my community garden, and on the advice from a North Carolina planting guide, I skeptically planted not one but two garden plots. In September. I repeat. September. Where I grew up we often get snow in September.
My skepticism, as usual, was complete lunacy. The freshly-planted plot…
The autumn colors have really taken hold here in North Carolina. The forests are alight as the leaves brighten and begin to thin. The drive between my apartment and my office is a breathtaking experience, and every morning becomes more spectacular.
Folks, we live in a beautiful country. And more than the stunning scenery, the fertile soils, and the glittering cities, the most beautiful part is that each of us has the opportunity to contribute to the leadership and policies that shape our nation.
No matter where your politics lie, I urge you to go vote today. Tune out the dizzying spin, find some reputable sources of information, and make a plan to get to the ballot box. Leave work 30 minutes early. Google map your polling place. Participate. Think carefully about what your vote means to you, your neighbors, and the millions of people that live and work around you every day. Then fill in the bubbles, slap on your free sticker, and encourage your friends and co-workers to follow suit.
It seems a little silly to be telling you about my Halloween party and all the food I made for it when every retail establishment and ad agency seems to have decided that it’s Christmas already. But I barely had time to get into the Halloween spirit before it was over, and I’m certainly not going to skip over Thanksgiving, thank you very much.
Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. I finally found myself in a position to throw a party to celebrate this exciting night. Uuuuuunfortunately the most opportune date for my little get together happened to fall right at the end of a two-week stint of one bazillion shows, which meant I had some particularly long days at work. Despite this little setback, I still managed to pull off some fun decorations and an ambitious menu, all without going broke.
Giant carving pumpkins, bumpy heirloom pumpkins, creepy white pumpkins, compact pie pumpkins, teeny tiny decorative pumpkins…
The pumpkin is somewhat unique in that it is one of the few foods that is truly celebrated only in the season in which it readily grows. At almost any time of year, you can be sure to find at a grocery store virtually any fruit or vegetable your heart desires. But pumpkins? They pretty much only show up in September, and by November, those large cardboard bins with Snoopy on the side have disappeared from view.
I love this about pumpkins. Because when fall hits, everyone goes PUMPKIN. CRAZY. Pumpkins pies, beers, cheesecakes, soups, breads, butters, jack-o-lanterns… all in honor of this giant, orange squash. I wonder if such a craze would hit for every fruit or vegetable if they were somewhat, shall I say, less available than they tend to be these days. Would strawberry shortcake taste even better in late spring if one couldn’t buy clamshells of red (though not necessarily ripe) berries all year long? Would every tomato burst with better flavor if we had to go without them during winter months? Perhaps. Perhaps not. I, for one, love the anticipation of new foods coming into season, and pumpkins are certainly cause for celebration.
So celebrate we shall! I kicked off my pumpkin season while visiting friends in DC at our second annual “Fall Extravaganza!” (exclamation point required) to enjoy good company, good food, and a beautiful autumn night. My good friend Sarah and I can hardly be in the same room together without finding ourselves cooking enough food to feed an army, and this weekend was no different.
After a few weeks of rather slim pickings of fruit at the farmers market, I’m happy to say I am now set for months, with a fridge full of the fresh, juicy apples. For breakfasts, for lunches, for sauce, for pie, for crisp, for… everything!
Obtaining these apples is so much more fun than the grocery store, or even my other pick-your-own adventures. Rather than making an early morning solo march into a strawberry field or a blueberry patch, I worked a drive to a Maryland apple orchard into my whirlwind trip to DC to visit friends.
And it’s actually becoming a bit of a tradition. For three years running, anywhere from two to four of us have made our way out to Homestead Farm in Poolesville, Maryland for apple picking.
And we could not have asked for a more perfect day! Blue skies, pleasant sunshine, and a cool autumn breeze set the scene as we arrived.
I hate getting sick. Stuffy head and achy muscles and sore throat. No fun.
Less fun two weeks after seeing Contagion. No joke. Have you seen that movie? Scary.
But as much as being sick makes me not want to cook, I crave soup like crazy when I have a cold.
And there’s nothing quite like homemade chicken noodle soup.
Sans chicken.
I don’t want to mislead you. This soup has lots of chicken stock, yes, but no chicken meat. Why? Because I don’t like it in there. I don’t know why. Never have. My mom used to strain chicken noodle soup so that the little pinkish chicken pieces got caught in the strainer and I was left with warm, savory broth. Am I the only one?
If there’s one thing I know about lasagne, it’s this.
My mom’s recipe is the best one.
I’ve never tasted it’s equal.
Which leads me to the second thing I know about lasagne.
Sometimes, getting exactly what you want require cheap, grocery store tomato sauce, cottage cheese, and dried pasta.
Sure, I’ve localed it up a bit with some fantastic locally raised beef and parsley from my garden, but this semi-unusual way of preparing lasagne is the way I was taught, and as we’ve already discussed, it’s the most delicious way to do so. Why break something that works so beautifully?
This is not to say that I will never foray into fancy lasagnes with handmade noodles and fresh tomato sauces, but I doubt I will ever abandon this one.
It has finally arrived. Though I’ve been unsuccessfully attempting to will it so over the last two weeks, a storm blew in on Thursday and brought with it a thirty degree temperature drop and a taste of delicious autumn.
I know that my brief escapades in denim and corduroy this weekend aren’t permanent and that it’s supposed to bounce back into the high 70s this week, but the effect will remain.
If you know me even a little bit, I’ve probably discussed with uncanny fervor my love of fall. Absolutely my favorite season, no question. And there are so many ways to enjoy it!
Apple picking.
Pumpkin picking.
Pumpkin carving.
Pumpkin anything.
10,398 fall recipes, and an equal number for Halloween.
Halloween! Thanksgiving!
Corn mazes, hay rides, haunted trails, haunted houses, ghost tours!, amusement parks, baseball games. Halloween parties, Renaissance festival, a costume for each of those. Appalachians for the leaves, farmers market for the food, and travel for the joy of sharing the season with friends and family. The color orange. The color brown. Chrysanthemums. Corn husks. Bountiful harvest of squashes, roots, apples, pears, cabbages, potatoes, and onions.
This year, for the first time, I’m adding a new one to my fall activity guide: fall garden! The garden I grew up with was winding down by this point in September, but here, I’ve only just put a new batch of seeds in the ground. I now have a second plot for the fall and winter, so in addition to mucking out some of the summer plants that have gone to seed, I spent a couple of very dirty mornings preparing the new bed, and my original one, for planting.
One of the benefits of a community garden is that there are all kinds of people who want to help out in all kinds of ways. Recently, a local composting company donated a massive pile of freshly composted, loamy, nutritious top soil to our garden for us to refill our plots. The catch is that it could not be directly deposited into the beds, that was up to me, a shovel, and a wheelbarrow.
When asked if I could bring scones to a “Ladies’ High Tea”, I found myself suddenly faced with two questions:
1. What exactly is a Ladies’ High Tea?
2. How the heck do I make scones?
Scones are something that I always hear about, that people some to rather enjoy, but that I’d never made before. But what better excuse to learn a new recipe than a chance to share it with new friends?
Not really having the time to experiment with several recipes, I began hunting for a recipe that seemed simple, basic, and classic. I was, however, incredibly surprised by the range of this pastry, and have now added many recipes to my list to try in the future. Apple cheddar scones? Blueberry lemon scones? Cinnamon scones?
Both the unofficial end of summer and the unofficial start of my favorite season, it heralds new school years, last summer hoorahs, and whispers of the beautiful autumn to come.
I haven’t quite felt that first breath of fall though. Yes, fall squash and small pumpkins are beginning to appear at the farmers market and the sun is setting noticeably earlier, and the campus at Duke is crowded once more now that the full student body has returned. But it’s hot. And still quite sticky. And still quite green.
But do you know what I’m talking about? That moment when you feel the spark of the season, any season really. I get it before the holiday season too, when something shifts either in nature or in me (or both, more likely), when I say yes, the season is changing. And also before the spring, a first warm day, watching naked brown trees burst into brilliant green or delicate blossoms seemingly overnight.
Any day now, I think fall will arrive for me. In the meantime, this dish is a fantastic way to celebrate late summer produce and puts a whole new spin on one of my favorite vegetables.
The Durham Farmers Market often features the recipes of local chefs on Saturday mornings, but for some reason I hardly ever find myself there at the right time. A couple weeks ago though, I arrived just as the cooking began, and her key ingredient? Okra! The final product was dolled out in paper cups to the hungry crowd, and after two bites I knew I had to make some for myself.
