Suddenly it was fall, and the produce changed. Sure, there is still zucchini, but there is always zucchini.
On early morning walks, my feet crunch through amber and auburn leaves and I breathe deeply to inhale the clean, crisp air. That’s all well and good, but it means the tomatoes are pallid and wan, as though exhausted by their glorious output all summer long. Of course that’s not how it works: the poor things simply can’t thrive without the sun warming them from inside to outside, all day every day. In a few months I will feel the same way.
Now, though, the flavors of the season are still new, and I am going to enjoy them. Hello again to cauliflower, who I resolutely ignored all summer. I will make you into a rich, creamy soup, and then drizzle you with vibrantly tart-sweet pomegranate molasses. Your time has come.
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