November sky. With all due respect to Guns N’ Roses, it ain’t always raining.
Fall in New Jersey means bright leaves, a chill in the air, and the heat going on for the first time in months. In particular houses, say, just over the border into Deal, it means the snarfing of certain foods. Here, an assortment, with a couple of extra pictures just for pretty pretty.
Homemade marzipan ghosties and minions.
Bosc pear in repose.
Polenta with my homemade organic tomato sauce full of rosemary, capers, onions and hot Italian sausage. I ate this instead of birthday cake last month.
Someone’s—not sure if human or beast—orchard snack.
Homemade walnut butter plus fresh figs caramelized in honey, squooshed between a whole wheat wrap from Trader Joe’s. Kind of a luxurious breakfast…
.. perhaps topped only by this breakfast, a deep-dish, black-bottom pumpkin pie. I polished this puppy off in the space of three days.
….or this one, a rum raisin apple pie. My sister found the recipe someplace. Killer.
And a remnant of last fall, the candle I lit when my power was out during Superstorm Sandy. I was freezing and spooked, but somehow still saw the beauty in this. I’m grateful.
eve's apple 