I have a confession to make. In a country that celebrates its glorious summers - the beaches, the chorus of cicadas, slowly melting ice creams, heading off to the bach - I am the opposite. Don't get me wrong, I like summer, but I love winter and the autumn months drifting into it. This amazingly crisp time of the year signals the beginning of cold clear mornings,reading books by the fire,hearty dense food, rich red wine, interesting layers of clothes and acccessories, and of course the first ski report. I think I am definitely a creature of the colder months.
This year I have jars of jam and preserved apple sitting like little jewels in the pantry.I feel like a happy squirrel. I am already plotting stews and casseroles, and delicious soups, of which our family can never get enough.
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