With the start of a new season, I think on our traditions - our birthday celebrations, our summer solstice dinner at the beach, other family traditions that are slowly, one by one, working their way into our lives and memories - and I wonder about fall. How can we commemorate this season each year?
Fall. A slowing down, an exhalation after the excitement of summer. A season of preparation for the winter ahead. A pull towards the comfort of home.
Slow...preparation...comfort...home. I know.
We spend a day peeling, cooking, mixing, scooping, pouring, boiling, sealing. Mother-in-law patiently instructs as we fill the jars just so. Lids seal with a satisfying pop, summer's riches stored for the less bountiful months ahead. Jars sparkle like jewels on the counter. I breathe a sigh of satisfaction every time I walk by. Perfect.
And so a new tradition is born.
Pasta sauce, salsa, and cinnamon peach preserves