Fall

If I told you that I had a fabulous soup recipe with only three ingredients in it, would you believe me? Leeks, potatoes and water or chicken broth. Oh and a little butter to saute the leeks in, that's it.

It seems to be a mantra these days that by using the best ingredients one really doesn't need to do much to turn out a great meal. Leek and potato soup epitomizes this thinking. You can add milk or cream or top it off with a dollop of sour cream if you want to fancy it up, but it's really not necessary. Based on my own research (which is corroborated by the reviews of other cooks who have reacted to the multitude of leek & potato soup recipes posted on epicurious.com) complicated preparations with more ingredients tend to distract rather than enhance.

There is something so comforting about leek and potato soup. Its pale matte green color is comforting. Its smell is comforting. And of course the taste, mellow oniony leeks and potatoes combined together in a thick pottage is, well, comforting. Either smooth or chunky its soft texture and mild flavors are as soothing as flannel sheets. It's a great soup to go with a sandwich or just on its own. And it's the best antidote to a day of gustatory indulgence where you want something just short of another meal. Does this happen to you on the weekend sometimes? If so, you're not alone.

Last weekend I went apple picking with my family at Silverman's Farm in Connecticut. We have been going there since I was a kid, when we would all stand by and watch as the apple press squeezed the juice out of freshly-picked apples, and would get to sample the delicious result of apple cider. Unfortunately the apple press has been retired; it is now located inside the market as a symbolic relic from the past. Because of new production standards, the farm no longer offers unpasteurized cider made on the premises, but instead pasteurizes and bottles its cider off site.

The orchards are currently laden with apples ready for picking. Pickers are taken up to the orchards by tractors running nonstop. Everywhere you look there are families with young kids, groups of friends, and those who come every year. The apples are great this year; however, they are ripening faster than usual. Go now before all the apples have fallen off the trees and bring home a bag of apples.

Years ago I made an oatmeal cake that was moist, dense and delicious with a thick layer of cream cheese frosting slathered over the top. When we had out-of-town friends staying with us last week, I thought of that cake that I haven’t made in years when I served baked oatmeal for breakfast one morning.

I flipped through my recipe file and found the cake recipe that I’d clipped from a newspaper many years ago. I added a seasonal touch to the cake with the addition of chopped, locally grown apples. Since I had a ripe banana in the freezer, I stirred that into the batter, too. A bit of cinnamon added to the cream cheese frosting turned the cake into an autumn treat.

Oatmeal, tart apples, cinnamon and banana paired with cream cheese — can’t get much better — unless you add some toasted chopped pecans. I shared the cake with others and discovered that a short length of cinnamon stick poked into each piece of cake worked well as a support for plastic wrap, preventing the plastic from sticking to the frosting and ruining its attractiveness. Once you taste this cake, you may choose not to share.

We can't think of many things we like better than fondue. We're also pretty fond of cooking things inside other edible things. The confluence of these two circumstances makes Gourmet's Roast Pumpkin with Cheese "Fondue" one of our favorite cold-weather recipes.

This pumpkin fondue recipe, proof that simplicity does not negate decadence, is probably not something you should eat every day -- even if you want to, like us. You'll understand why as you begin to fill the cavity of your pumpkin with toasted baguette slices, cream, stock and more cheese than you'd initially thought necessary.

After you've filled the pumpkin and rubbed the skin with olive oil, it goes into the oven where the pumpkin itself does all the work. You'll hear an occasional crackle in there, the air will start to smell delicious. Beware of smoking ovens from overflowing cream -- this happens nearly every time we make this no matter how much headspace we try to leave inside the pumpkin.