Smells like Fall

Our thermometers and the angle of the sun in the sky have dropped lately. We are wrapping ourselves in scarves again and sunlight now has a golden sheen. Long distance runners are running the last of the year’s marathons. But what a great time of the year to jog! Any excuse to be out, gulping down gallons of purified autumn air, smelling like apples and wet grass.

I was thinking the other day about E. M. Forster. He might not agree with me. Of autumn smells he said that they are “odours of decay,” “pathetic” because they remind one of spring. However Forster was a depressive English man living in a depressing gray climate who wrote books about idealistic English girls traveling to sun-drenched places to be forever changed by an unexpected incident (okay, ‘sun-drenched’ in A Passage to India and ‘sun-kissed’ for his books in Italy. It seems that Tuscan weather is occasionally punctuated by powerful thunderstorms which stir passions and alter destinies.) However in Central Europe autumn has felt like a release, in the same way the harvest is the fulfillment of the growing season.

In addition to wear scarves and going for autumnal runs, I’m going to start baking -- so take that Forster. Project for the week:

Quinoa, banana and apple bread from La Tartine Gourmande (http://www.latartinegourmande.com/2009/09/25/quinoa-banana-bread/). Wish me well, and stop by for a bite if you’re in town.