Pavlova

These tiny pavlovas are a summer hold-over. Another small glimpse of warmth that I have been waiting to delve into. It's the season of apples and pumpkin and cinnamon and pecans and though I have happily been drinking cider and eating pumpkin bread these last few weeks, I'm not ready to wait for another year for fresh strawberries & sunshine until 7pm. But alas, this is the last summer baking that I did in 2014. I baked the meringues early in the morning on a day off using a recipe from Hannah Kaminsky's Vegan Desserts. A friend came over in the afternoon with beautiful farm-fresh berries. We watched About Time, and even though I had seen it before I quietly cried through most of it. And then I dried my tears and made the whipped cream and we assembled the loveliest baby pavlovas. Small and light enough to not feel weighed down in the summer heat. Simple enough to allow the ripe fruit to shine. Glorious. I could write them a love song, and it still wouldn't be enough.


We took a drive out of the city an hour for an apple festival. We bundled up and drank cider that was pressed right in front of us and then warmed in an older copper pot. The leaves made the hills yellow & red & burnt orange. With every gust of wind more leaves blew down, landing in my hair and sticking to my shoes. It was all so right & fleeting & we had to traipse around the little town for an extra hour because there's only so much more time before it's too cold and wet and icy to be outdoors for any longer than a quick run to the trolley. And on cool, rainy days like these it's easy to remember that winter isn't so bad with blankets and pots of tea and Love Actually streaming endlessly. Here's to making the most, no matter the time of year.