Fall

I can't make pancakes. Nope. Just can't. Other than my fleeting victory with Nigella's ricotta hotcakes last August (which technically aren't pancakes), I haven't had much pancake success.

I've tried recipes from Gourmet, Bon Appetit, Cooking Light, and even Martha. They always come too heavy or too dry or too flat.

So when Jeff and I felt like having pancakes on Sunday, I went where no respectful food writer goes – to the Bisquick section of the supermarket baking aisle.

There I furtively placed a box of Heart Smart Bisquick in my cart, proceeded to the checkout, and almost made it to my car, when I was accosted by the Food Blogging paparazzi. Despite my protestations, their persistence was formidable.

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.

One of the ways fall is celebrated in Maine is with an annual pig roast that has been going on for the last 25 years thrown by four generations of the Hammond family. Once you're invited you always have an invitation. The patriarch Skip is in his mid-eighties and his wife is much younger by two years. They were married in the next town but got their blood test by a local doctor in Belgrade, who when he took blood from Skip’s wife couldn’t get it to fill the vial so he said to Skip give me some of your blood to fill the vial. The doctor then pronounced them husband and wife. They have been married for 60 years so far.

The pig roast started as a prelude to hunting season when a caterer would drive all night from South Carolina with six 80-pound pigs and masses of ground corn for the mountain of hush puppies. People brought all their best desserts and the table groaned under the weight. Over the years more tables have been set up and there is everything imaginable from bean hole beans to salads and deviled eggs of every know variation. The past 10 years clams and lobstershave also been cooked over a roaring oak wood fire pit. There are many people having their first and only lobster of the year and everyone wears a big contented smile of appreciation.

Give me a sweet and salty combo and I’m a happy Farmer. My Autumn Harvest Chicken Salad suits said liking marvelously.

Chicken salad likes and dislikes can be about as individual as eye color, yet that is the appeal of the dish…one can create, add, take away, or combine just about any flavors and textures to make his or her very own chicken salad. Enter this Farmer’s Autumn Harvest Chicken Salad.

It is fall, ya’ll, if my raving autumnal posts haven’t given away that fact already. With a season change, flavor changes are also craved and chicken salad is a dish in which to inject these seasonal cravings. From apples to roasted pecans and walnuts to cranberries and a tangy dressing, this salad is easy, serves plenty of folks, and has just the right amount of tweaks to make it a new favorite. Roasting is the trick for this chicken salad.

Roasting the chicken and the nuts brings about a layer of flavors, a depth of richness that only this cooking technique can bring to the table, literally! I lather the thin chicken cutlets with olive oil, sundried tomatoes and garlic, and then season with cracked salt and pepper. These thin cuts of meat roast quickly at 400 degrees and make the house smell as if you’ve been cooking for days.