Fall

Move over apple turnovers. Here comes pumpkin.

Begin with a can of pure pumpkin puree, and it’s amazing how some sugar and spice can make everything nice. Pie crust helps out, too.

Grab-and-Go Sweet Pumpkin Turnovers are a little bit cookie and little bit pie. When refrigerated pie crust is sprinkled with chopped walnuts and cut into rounds, then mounded with a filling that will remind you of pumpkin pie, it’s hard to know what it should be called. Most certainly, it is a turnover.

The use of refrigerated pie crust speeds up the process of creating these turnovers. Pressing chopped walnuts into the dough adds crunchy texture and gives the pastry a homemade flair.

When the turnovers are eaten on the day they are baked, your teeth will crack through a crunchy topping of cinnamon and sugar. Once the turnovers have been stored in an airtight container, that crunchy shell will become melt-in-the-mouth soft. Either way, they are delicious.

The applesauce doughnuts I made the other day didn’t stick around in the kitchen very long. Off they went to the guys at the gas station, to the owner of the tea shop in town, along with one of her customers who happened to be in for a cup of tea, and a few to my friends at the food co-op.

Fourteen little doughnut balls remained on a plate on my kitchen counter. My two-year-old doughnut-ball-loving grandson lives hours away from me, so this time, I couldn’t share with him.

I decided to surprise my bread-pudding-loving husband. I mixed up a liquid mixture, rich with egg and butter, sweet with white and brown sugars and spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg. Broken doughnut balls (there were only 12 little balls on the plate by this time. Apparently, there is a doughnut-ball-loving person right in my own house.) took a long bath in that liquid before I stirred in some chopped apples.

There was just enough to fill two ramekins. Breakfast in bed on a chilly autumn Saturday morning? Dessert by the fire after dinner? If you decide to serve this for dessert, it can be baking while you’re eating dinner. If you decide to serve it for breakfast, it can be chilling while you’re sleeping.

Fragrance of fall. Warm. Delicious. Comfort. Just for two.

This is the first time in my life that I won’t be kicking and screaming for summer to stay just a bit longer. Not that I want it to go, mind you, I’m just happy to see the seasons do their thang, the earth to change notches such a tiny bit. The days are already significantly shorter, but when you’re from Southern California you’re generally immune to massive temperature changes anyway.

Besides, this past month I’ve been living in Thanksgiving because of my work, and Christmas is next week. I’m mentally already there.

While my brain may be on all things holiday, my tastebuds will most likely be the last thing to get on the bandwagon. A trip to the market explains why: there are still beautiful tomatoes and other summer fruit waiting to be scooped up and enjoyed one last time before we move on to slower, richer things. Which reminds me of this recipe, something I’ve made 5 or 6 times since it hit the newstands this past July. I’ve been meaning to share it with you but keep forgetting. Now I better do it as one last goodbye to summer, don’t you think?