Is It Too Slight a Thing / Apple Cream Cheese Streusel Pie

Is It Too Slight A Thing / Apple Cream Cheese Streusel Pie

trees

Is it too slight a thing
To have lived long in September,
To have caught the golden light,
To later have these days, “Remember?”;

goldenleaves

birchtree

leavesandlight

bridgetolight

treesandbranches

blueskies-goldleaves

greenleaves-fallleaves

backlitgrass

sky-apples

(Could we hold so much in
Our grasp, yet reckon things askew,
Because the things we hold are
Moving, moving, like things do?)

applepiecreamcheese

I bake a pie on Friday,
I bake a pie today.
Is it too slight a thing to get to
Make it,
Bake it,
Slice it,
Eat it,
With you,
(That’s our way).

pieandlight

At night, I miss the golden hour,
In life, I’ll miss these days—
When we were happy, simple, full,
Working from bed,
Baking our pies,
Laughing at night—

applecreamcheesepie

I say this now to know,

I knew.

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Pumpkin Cheesecake Bars

pumpkin cheesecake bars

I’ve always liked pumpkin. I like the way it tastes. I like the way it looks. Mostly, I like the season it comes in, fall.

The world just looks better this time of year, you know? The colors, the weather, the way you can see your breath in the morning but take your sweater off in the afternoon. This October, I’ve seen leaves fall in Seattle and Ohio and then back again in Illinois; I’ve sipped hot apple cider and walked on piles of crunchy leaves; I’ve felt crisp air and slept with the windows open. It’s been beautiful. And even though the days are darker as we edge closer to winter, I have to tell you: I love fall.

fall in chicagoland
crunching fall leaves
leaves wet on sidewalk

All that autumnal affection has to get channeled somewhere, and I’m happy to tell you I’ve found the place: pumpkin. Because listen, pumpkin is to recipes what fall is to the calendar. When I make something with pumpkin, it’s like I’m eating pure fall, and I like that. That’s why when the people behind The Old Farmer’s Almanac Everyday Recipes sent me a copy of their cookbook recently, complete with little sticky tabs signaling the best recipes with pumpkin, I was an easy sell.

Beginning with pumpkin cheesecake bars.

everyday recipes farmer's almanac

Velvety and creamy, these bars start with a thick graham cracker crust and finish with a pumpkin filling as rich as cheesecake. You’re supposed to let them chill before slicing, but between us, I had a piece right out of the oven, warm and golden, and it was quite nice. The next day, I ate another piece, chilled, for breakfast—because it’s October after all, and I might as well eat the most of it.

pumpkin cheesecake bars

And if you too find yourself indoors one of these beautiful evenings, away from the colors and the leaves and the chill in the air, I sincerely hope it’s because you’re making this or something like it, with pumpkin, in the season I wish wouldn’t end.

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Guest Post at The Kitchn!

christmas cherry cream cheese

This post was featured as a guest post at The Kitchn today, and I figured I’d repost it here for those of you who didn’t already see it.

It’s funny that when I look back on life, from the cupcakes I’d bring into school for birthdays to the ice cream my family ate on that summer vacation to the time where my parents and my brother ate lobster while wearing giant plastic bibs, I often seen things in terms of food. Like Christmas. When I was growing up, the month of December meant tins of all kinds of cookies and fudge lined up along my grandma’s creaky staircase, gifts she planned to take to every friend and relative, with at least one container of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies planned especially for me.

I baked cookies covered with red and green sprinkles, eaten while I was watching It’s a Wonderful Life or a made-for-TV movie about a girl who wants a mom for Christmas. My mom baked cookies rolled in powdered sugar or kolachkys with apricot and raspberry jelly in the centers. We sipped hot chocolate. We gave away panettones. We even had presents that related to food: I’ll never forget taking my new doll up to my room, her hands holding a tray of muffins that actually smelled like chocolate, thinking that life couldn’t get any better than this.

Then there were the parties. Christmas parties at our house were the sound of many voices and the smell of coffee brewing and tables covered in meatballs and sandwiches and chips and dip and enormous trays of cookies and fudge. I’d gravitate towards the sweet rather than savory (I still do), filling my plate with the Jell-O mold and some fruit and desserts, a glass of homemade punch on the side. I liked the meatballs and the cheese and crackers, and you know I loved the cookies, but one item on the buffet I never missed was this: my mom’s cherry cream cheese spread, pink and whipped, slathered on top of mini bagels and studded with dates, walnuts and chopped cherries. I don’t even like the texture of cherries (the flavor, yes; the texture, no), but this spread is so good, I got past it, scooping the glossy, red bits to the side as I piled more cream cheese on another piece of bagel.

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