September always seems to arrive before I’m quite ready for it.
There are still warm afternoons and baskets of summer produce around, but the mornings are cooler now. Coffee tastes a little better hot. I start thinking about soup again. And without really deciding to, I find myself cooking differently.
This is one of my favourite times of year in the kitchen.
It’s the in-between season when tomatoes and berries are still hanging on, but apples are starting to appear and suddenly roasting something for dinner sounds much better than making another summer salad.
I’ve always loved the way food marks the seasons for us. Not because we need to completely change the way we cook when the calendar turns to September, but because our kitchens seem to know before we do.
We start reaching for the big pot again. We turn the oven on without thinking twice. We add cinnamon to things. We tuck away a little of what summer gave us berries in the freezer, herbs dried or chopped, something made into jam or tucked into a jar for later.
There’s something comforting about that shift.
After a busy summer with Tilly, markets, events, grazing tables, and so many meals made and shared, I’m ready for a slightly slower rhythm in the kitchen. Not necessarily less happening just different.
More soup simmering on the stove. More baking. More meals that make the kitchen smell good long before they're ready.
And maybe that’s what I love most about September.
It doesn't ask us to give up summer all at once.
It simply starts leaving little reminders that something cozier is coming.
— Jo-Al
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