Fall

Synonymous with autumn is the color orange. Pumpkin, salmon, persimmon, and rust abound throughout the garden and nature. From leaves to blooms to the fruits of the season, autumnal orange hues find favor with this Farmer. All I have to do is peruse around the garden and landscape and gather orange colored blossoms and fruit for an arrangement that celebrates the bounty of the season.

Planting snapdragons in the fall ensures mountains of this fun flower the following spring for the Deep South. Bronze Liberty Classic snaps are simply stunning, for they start out salmon and then are throated with golden/orangey/terra cotta tints as the blossoms mature.

This range of terra cotta to coral punctuates pansy and viola beds and spikes through glossy green parsley mounds for lovely fall color and spring delight. Since I’ve been planting them in the garden, I had a few stems to spare for an arrangement.

Great Aunt Irene’s orange, gold, and white bowl from the Far East (different family lore places it in different regions of Asia, so the Far East shall suffice) just spoke for itself as the vessel of choice for a festival of flowers, paying homage to a splendid color.

The snaps were a must and, thus, a pilgrimage through the garden commenced – the pilgrimage was now a hunt for orange flowers, fruit, and foliage.

For days, I’ve been thinking about the beet salad I enjoyed at Sontes in Rochester, Minn. My biking partners and I spent a couple of nights in Rochester a few weeks ago when we were planning to bike the Root River Trail in the Lanesboro area. Lanesboro is only about 30 miles from Rochester.

We ordered a few tapas, or small plates, that evening and shared. Except the beet salad. We decided we each needed our own.

Local roasted beets, sliced oh so thin, were carefully arranged on the plate, made to look like a beautiful ruby red flower. The beet slices were dotted with bits of Carver County’s Shepherd’s Way Farm's blue cheese,  sprinkled with pistachios and splashed with mango vinegar. Micro mustard greens were in the very center of the ruby flower. It was a work of (edible) art.

I'm pretending it's a crisp Fall day and I'm sitting in the sunlight enjoying a warming bowl of this creamy soup. The truth be told...I have the air conditioning turned down to 70 and I am enjoying this soup while wearing shorts and flip-flops. It's a little hot outside.

But the heat, did not stop me from making a spicy soup, in fact, I feel like it nudged me into doing it. We do love Sriracha around here. If you still haven't tried it, it's time!

And this soup is absolutely easy to throw together. Using pumpkin puree makes this an absolute time saver and there is no need for a blender to cream the soup. It couldn't be any more simplistic.

I have had a prolific sage garden this year. It has been growing like crazy. I need to get to work and dry some for the winter months. If you have never had fried sage leaves before, you are in for a treat. They are crispy, little, salty bites of goodness. The perfect addition to a creamy soup.

There's nothing more spectacular than the brilliant colors of Autumn in the South, especially the trees that turn deep shades of amber and ruby red. It's my favorite time of year to visit the farm in middle Georgia, where I grew up and all of my family still resides. The 2 hour drive from my home in Atlanta takes me to a place that is truly another world. A phone call from my niece, Caroline, asking me to take her and her best friend to the Georgia National Fair, in nearby Perry was a good enough reason to go home for a long weekend.

As I start to mourn the loss of peaches and summer tomatoes (the one's that are actually red inside and taste like tomatoes), the cool weather ushers in the fall crops. My Dad planted, many years ago for his grandchildren, an entire orchard devoted to autumn crops. There are many different varieties of pears, figs, and pomegranate trees all of which are surrounded by an orchard of pecan trees. I think my dad had some sort of fairy tale vision of picking up his grandchildren at the bus stop after school and taking them to the orchard where he could sit in his swing and watch them frolic among the trees while eating fresh picked pears and figs.