Despite that fact that we seem to be having some oddly warm days this week, the mornings are colder, dewyer, and you can sometimes see your breathe in the air. While the last of the summer produce lingers at local farmers markets, the autumn selection of plump, stripped pumpkins and thick bunches of cavolo nero have made their appearance. Pears come into season — conference and comice — and it’s apples galore. All sorts sit on the shelf ready to be made into a pie or pudding. Food shopping becomes a whole new game.
It goes without saying that once October rolls around, you’re obligated to cook at least one squash recipe. Or at the very least, buy a pumpkin, even if only for decoration. I often stand like a child lost in thought when I go pumpkin picking. I like to buy some for eating, some for decoration and two large ones for carving. A rather messy affair (one that I demand everyone part take in only because it’s just so fun). My hands and up to my elbows are covered in pumpkin goo, stringy pulp aggressively scooped out so I can fit one dainty tea light inside. Only once have the seeds been saved for roasting and on that single occasion, I scorched them to hell. Never again.
My first soup recipe is almost always some sort of pumpkin, ladled with a spoon of sour cream, topped with some a bit of lambs lettuce. And when I enjoy butternut squash, I like to have it sliced into large pieces, roasted in the oven with a bit of olive oil and eaten with some large pearl couscous plus a bit of basil pesto mixed in. And of course, a bit of torn mozzarella or shaved parmesan. A very easy, low maintenance lunch to make.
But autumn isn’t just about savoury cooking, there’s plenty of sweetness involved. When I was in College, I attended a friend’s family thanksgiving. I had my name beautifully written in cursive on a piece of agate as a name card. It was something I’ve kept for years. We had a deep-fried Turkey, which very much felt like an invitation for the Fire Department to show up, but what I remember most were the pies. I had a thick slice of both pumpkin and pecan pie. I remember the creaminess of the pumpkin and the shortcrust pastry that fell apart so delicately as I cut into it with my fork. This year, I’ll attempt to recreate it. But let’s not leave out the classic apple pies, and the list of crumbles I could make are endless.
If summer is the season for salads and barbecues, autumn is most certainly defined by an adoption of the Danish and Norwegian Hygge lifestyle — an embrace of the quieter pleasures in life. Baking is very much a part of that cosy essence. I’ve made an extensive list of all the things I want to bake before the year is over and it’s taped to the fridge. Each week, I’m aiming to tackle something completely new.
Last week, I made mini rose apple tarts. Taken fresh out the oven, they have the perfect flaky crunch that you get from puff pastry. The butter melted with the cinnamon sugar and apple to create a sweet one-bite treat. If you have a spare hour, they are a delight to make. The real secret to the recipe lies in slicing the apples with a mandolin rather than a knife. Firstly, you get the uniformity of the slices; secondly, each slice is wafer thin. When it comes to rolling the pastry into a rosette, the apple slices are thin enough that they don’t snap.
Autumn is where I kick my cooking into high gear — desperately salvaging pockets of time to make something new before the year ends. It’s a time where I shake myself from the sleeping haze of summer cooking. The cake tins and pie dishes come out; the casseroles are dusted off from it’s spot on the high shelf and the deep saucepan for bubbling soup takes its place on the stove. It’s time for the real cooking to begin.