Living in Southern California there's little distinction between seasons, so when there's a hint of "true seasonal weather" I'm all over it like white on rice. Today finally felt like fall. Not just in the morning with the low clouds, but all day long. Nolan and I snuggled in our sweats. There was no need to turn on the air conditioner. I even pulled out my favorite blanket to cuddle up with on the couch. But more than the cool air and the crisp breeze, fall, to me, is synonymous with comfort foods. Particularly of the baked variety. Mmmmm...muffins, cookies, breads. Soups, potatoes, anything and everything pertaining to the crock-pot variety. Hot chocolate, maybe even a mocha at Starbucks.
I could sense that fall was in the air this weekend when I had an overwhelming desire to make a big ol' pot of soup. My urge to cook is at its height when fall arrives. The apple-cranberry-pecan bread I just pulled out of the oven smells divine. Fall is here. Not necessarily "in its glory" where fall's vibrant colors are displayed back east or in the northwest, but it's here "California style." My kitchen has confirmed it.
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