The days get short and rainy. The nights are long, cold, and leave you wishing for a warm, mildly alcoholic beverage(Hot cocoa and bourbon for me) to comfort you by the fire. Baseball is finally off the television and Football has happily taken it's place.
This is the least of what fall means to me.
This is the season, where all the hard work of late summer preservation begins to pay off. My oven dried tomatoes taste like just-picked, when crafted into a marinara. The dried mushrooms will be redolent of fall, long after the maples leaves have turned to compost. Curried Pumpkin Soup with Armenian yogurt will be a centerpiece. The wheel of Rebouchon goat cheese will call to me, crying to be smeared on a piece of crusty bread. The lightness that touched everything during the summer season in gone. Replaced by an explosion of intense flavors and textures. Gone is the light acidity of the Dry Reisling, it has been supplanted by big Balloon glasses filled with Chianti, Pinot Noir, and Rioja.
Time, every year I'm on this planet it moves faster. Left with less and less time to enjoy the little things around me. This Autumn is when I begin to react to this unwelcome shortening of the seasons and hours. This Autumn, I open the Doors.
Welcome, to to the Church of the Holy Chefs Knife. My name is Brother Gabriel. I'm the High Priest here.
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