It was a long and glorious summer of lazy eating for this girl. Raw vegetables, salads, and bread with good cheese probably made up the bulk of my diet...and protein? Hah, I ate lots of yogurt?
I have found that hot weather really dictates what you eat, especially when you don't have central air in your house and live on the upper level (aka the kitchen is heat box). Just thinking about turning on the oven (or even the stove) made me sweat. Honestly, I was probably sweating to begin with. So I didn't do it. I ate things out of the fridge instead. I hardly cooked...it was strange. I thought there was something wrong with me--like I'd somehow lost it. Lost my will to spend time in the kitchen, scheming, tasting, experimenting...
But I realized, on the first cool night of the year, that it was simply a seasonal phase. As soon as the air ceased to be hot and sultry, it was like the desire to work with food hit me square in the face. So I've been doing it, beginning to once again sauté garlic and onions, bake cinnamon-spiced things, and roast root vegetables.
The seasons do funny things to us, and I think this is one of the most profound effects they have on me; the ability to both strip and re-introduce my love of cooking. Despite the impending snow and cold that are on the way, I couldn't be more excited for soup weather. And for bread. And curry. And pie. And at least we have this lovely, colorful season to enjoy for now, before the snow flies and the world gets dark. At least we have autumn.