Falling for autumn

and a recipe for mini tomato tarte tatins

To everyone new here, welcome. I’m Elizabeth, the writer of The Delicious Bits Dispatch, a weekly missive for the curious, blending discovery, reflection, and musings, always wrapped up with a seasonal recipe worth lingering over.

This morning I sat by the pool, sunbathed, and took a leisurely swim.

It wouldn’t be so remarkable if it weren’t October 5, if the pool weren’t outdoors, if the canopy of trees in front of me weren’t hanging tight to their verdent green, a magician’s sleight of hand to convince me that it’s summer. Here, on my quiet rooftop oasis, the only sound that breaks the brilliant blue sky open is the splashing children playing; if I close my eyes, their squeals of delight might convince me it’s July.

Still, the red-headed cousins of the trees below peek out amongst the greenery, standing brazenly bold and defiant, their crackling underfoot the leitmotif of autumn. The blue jays flying overhead in streaming flecks of blue en masse are raucously calling out the real change of season, never mind the thermostat. And, before I know it, twilight will begin to descend, rolling out a cloak of dusk for the imminent full moon.

photo credit: Richard Paquet

I know full well that winter fast approaches, and how glad I am for autumn. An overture of sorts that sets the mood and begins the season’s melody, one that deepens with the coming cold and prepares the heart for what’s to follow.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

—George Eliot, letter to Miss Lewis, Oct. 1, 1841

Before the earth falls asleep and so do we, laying fallowing and rejuvenating ourselves in preparation for spring, autumn uncannily puts a special spring in our step. And isn’t it marvellous?

As the days get shorter and while it’s still sweater weather, here’s some of the things I’ll be doing to clear my mind before the big chill sets in.

1. Take more and longer walks: no boots, no snow, no sweating or humidity. Just clear crisp air that I can take in by the lungful. Clear mind, full heart.

2. Saturate myself in autumn colours: the last anemones, dahlias and mums, the golden quality of the sky, the way that everything seems to be kissed by King Midas’s touch.

Photo credit: Richard Paquet

3. Reset my morning routine: from the sunrise terrace and watching the city wake up to finding an interior space for another kind of reflection, a deeper kind of connection, a thoughtful kind of writing.

4. Get my fill of apples: before they are annexed into the cold cellers of long storage, before the Cortlands become soft, and the Paula Reds, Ginger Golds and Spartans disappear, and Macintoshes are only ones for miles.

5. Fall fairs and church bazaars: and long drives in the country and stopping for mini donuts and cider, and looking for vintage cookbooks and having lunch at the local, and being kind to strangers.

6. Paying attention: to the patterns and how the birds are singing and at what time. To the very last of the flowers that strew their beauty in decaying heaps, joining Persephone as the frost truly takes hold, and the ever-changing arc of the full moon.

7. Giving thanks to this magical Earth we call home: we spoiled children who are the interlopers, who don’t wipe our feet, who carelessly break the china. In this late, great season of the year, we have an opportunity to see all of nature laid before us and be humbled rather than greedy, endlessly grateful that we’re allowed to overstay our welcome.

There’s an endless autumn in me, scenting my thoughts like campfire smoke.

—Jarod K. Anderson, Field Guide to the Haunted Forest

And so, October, you gorgeous thing. I won’t mind the rain, or your stealthy chill. I know the brilliant blue skies will still come, your teasing out of the day, the darker mornings, and with them, the growing temptation to sleep just five minutes more.

Autumn is here. We must wake up.

If you liked this post, let me know by clicking the ❤️ button. It helps spread the word about Delicious Bits and brings me joy. Thank you, dear readers and eaters!

Caramelised cherry tomato tartes tatins

makes 24 mini tatins

While I just might harbour a tiny dream to write a cookbook of sorts someday, until I do, I’ve surrounded myself with ones that give me great joy. One in particular is especially prized: Don’t Worry, Just Cook, written by dear friends Bonnie Stern and Anna Rupert, who included one of my recipes in its pages. Every time I make it, it’s a small reminder of shared kitchens, generous hearts, and the way food keeps us connected.

With cherry tomatoes still going strong, it was the perfect weekend to revisit my very simple, addictive and beautiful appetizer recipe. Even subpar tomatoes benefit from the cooking technique here.

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1½ tablespoons dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon each sherry vinegar and balsamic vinegar
2 large shallots, thinly sliced
250g (½ pound) cherry tomatoes, halved
1 teaspoon sea salt and a few grinds of fresh black pepper
2 × 197g (7 oz) sheets store-bought ready-rolled puff pastry
2 tablespoons thyme leaves

1. Heat oven to 400°F (200°C).

2. Melt the butter in a large skillet set over medium heat. Add the shallots, the two vinegars, and sugar. Cook for 2 minutes, then add the tomatoes. Season with salt and pepper. Cook until the tomatoes are caramelized and jammy, about 5 to 8 minutes.

3. Butter or spray a 24-cup mini-muffin pan. (If you don’t have a mini-muffin pan, make these double the size in a regular-size 12-cup muffin pan.)

4. Sprinkle a few thyme leaves in each muffin cup. Divide the tomato mixture between the cups; don’t overfill.

5. Roll out the puff pastry on a lightly floured work surface to a thickness of ¼ inch or thinner. Using a 2½-inch round pastry cutter, cut out 24 rounds. Gently press the rounds into the muffin cups on top of the tomatoes.

6. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, or until golden brown and bubbly. Cool for 5 minutes on a wire rack. Scoop and turn the tartes tatin out of the muffin pan one at a time using a fork and spoon, so that the tomatoes are on top. Serve warm or at room temperature.