Fall

Beets are like paint bombs. Deliciously sweet, red, flavored paint bombs, so intensely colored they stain your fingers, bleed into the sink, tint the cutting board, you name it. When cooked, they aren't so much red as deep magenta. When mixed with sour cream they turn paler shades of magenta to pink. The color, like the flavor is either something you love or you hate.

Beets get a bad rap from the low carb police, but they are actually quite healthy, filled with antioxidants, low in calories, they have significant amounts of fiber, folate, manganese and potassium. I know some people find beets too "earthy" tasting, but both Lee and I love 'em. Especially in beet soup.

There are an unbelievable number of recipes for beet soup. It's commonly served all over Eastern Europe. There are versions that are cold, hot, vegetarian, with meat, chunky, smooth, with tons of vegetables, with no other vegetables.

Lately I've been experimenting with "less is more". I've tried stripping down various recipes to the barest of basics to see if I could coax the ingredients to shine through. This is one of those recipes. In my experiment to get to the essence of the beet, I developed a recipe that has little more than beets in it at all. A pinch or two of sugar perks up the flavor and the broth and sour cream add body and richness.

You really don’t need to be German to have fun celebrating Oktoberfest. And, you don’t need to travel to Munich to enjoy the food we associate with Germany and its festival that lasts several days, providing a gateway for summer to turn to fall. This year, the celebrating began September 18 and will run through October 4th.

My dad was German, so I’ve eaten plenty of roast pork, sauerkraut and huge boiled dumplings that my Hungarian mom became proficient at creating. But when Oktoberfest rolls around, I start thinking about sausage. And sauerkraut. With boiled potatoes. Thick slices of red potatoes blanketed with a smooth, creamy beer-spiked sauce, tender bits of onion swimming through it. I’ve served these potatoes with grilled bratwurst and sauerkraut that’s simmered in beer. It’s delicious.

Baby, its cold outside! I’ve found myself sippin’ and savorin’ a warm drink of sorts all day – Earl Grey this morning, Orange Zinger later on, the latter two combined and then for my nightcap, this warm cider was just the ticket.

Every year, my fair peach state yields the last of its famed crop towards summer’s end. Afterwards, apples from our northern mountain counties’ orchards start coming in, giving us another fabulous fruit for a season. Pies, cakes, tarts, butter, and sauce all come from the apple crop, but one apple product in particular is nostalgic with the crisp autumn days – apple cider.

Velvety smooth, delightful to the taste, and luscious warm or even chilled, apple cider is the result of concentrating the apples’ juice with flavors oh so complementary of apples: cinnamon, cloves, brown sugar, and a dash of citrus.

Whenever I journey into the mountains during apple season, I am sure to bring home to the Peach Country stores of apple cider to get me through fall and into winter. In lieu of trekking to these mountain caches for a jug or two of this delectable nectar today, this recipe was not a bad consolation at all.

Stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole. Most people will say that Thanksgiving isn't a holiday without these traditional dishes, but that doesn't have to be the case. Although they are classics, it doesn't mean they can't be reinterpreted, reimagined, or replaced with an equally interesting seasonal side dish. When vegetarians are around, it's also courteous to keep them in mind when planning the menu.

Rice rarely gets attention on Thanksgiving. Some people make it just in case it's requested, but most often it's ignored altogether. Rice pilaf is actually a very appropriate dish to serve at Thanksgiving. This recipe, made with wild rice and quinoa, is perfect for the holiday. It's altogether symbolic of the season and is studded with toasted pecans and pomegranate seeds. It's a good side kick or even alternative to classic dishes, such as stuffing.

Wild rice is very American. It was and still is cultivated by Native Americans. But it's actually not a rice but a seed of a grass that grows in marshy areas and it can only be collected by boat. Pecans are a specialty of the South, where pecan trees are everywhere. So what could be more American than this dish? The addition of quinoa, a South American grain, adds protein and texture to the dish. Gladly serve it to the vegetarians in your family.