I might be the worst food blogger ever.
OK, that’s dramatic. It has been three months since my last post though, which might be a new personal record of negligence (*sobs quietly into pillow*), but I’M BACK! It feels so good to be posting a recipe again after taking some time off to get settled into my new program. This first semester at Juilliard Historical Performance, aside from being completely surreal , has FLOWN by. Between performances, lessons, gigs, being a hashtagpracticehermit, academic courses, and life in general, I’ve been a busy bee. In the last few weeks alone, my HP friends and I have performed on the radio, played for a live-streamed master class, finished a series of concerts in Boston and NYC, and are now gearing up for our tour to Holland (!) in a few weeks. I can’t believe that, at least for now, this is the new normal.
“I received free samples of siggi’s yogurt mentioned in this post. By posting this recipe I am entering a recipe contest sponsored by siggi’s yogurt and am eligible to win prizes associated with the contest. I was not compensated for my time.”
We’re less than two weeks away from Thanksgiving, and each year, this season brings up a ton of family memories for me. For whatever reason, the thought of shoveling all manner of carbs into my face whilst making dinner-table-inappropriate jokes with my cousins at the kids table (which I know I’m going to be at for ~10 more years at least, and am totally fine with) just screams NOSTALGIA… Ya know? It’s a natural human instinct. But for me, these memories can come flooding in at LITERALLY any given moment once November hits. Take for example, the other day, while I was buying a bag of persimmons.
When I was a kid and I used to go over to my grandparents’ house, my grandma and I would draw pictures together. One day we were drawing various fruits and veggies, putting faces on them, and giving them names. All the usual suspects were there: Broccoli Rob (GET IT?!), Tommy Tomato, Apple Anne, etc. But then I said to my grandma, “What about PERSIMMON PATRICK?” She looked at me surprised and slightly impressed, like, do you actually even know what a persimmon IS, seven-year-old Sarah? No, Grandma. No I did not.
In fact, I didn’t know what a persimmon was until college. I found one in the grocery store and tried it thinking it was going to be like a tomato. I was so deliciously, delightfully, beautifully wrong – persimmons are sweet, juicy, and just taste like autumn. Sorry that’s not more eloquent.
Contrary to whatever the holiday carols say, I must insist that autumn is in fact the most wonderful time of the year. The air is fresh and sweet, your hair stops frizzing, the leaves are pretty, Halloween happens, and DID I MENTION YOUR HAIR STOPS FRIZZING?!?! It’s also a free pass to become totally basic for two months out of the year, because everyone else is being basic too. Basically.
Part of me isn’t ready to let go of summer, though. With new school years come new responsibilities, and with this specific school year comes a new degree and decisions I don’t particularly feel like making yet. I mean seriously, didn’t I just graduate college? Wasn’t I JUST an unfertilized egg? EVERYTHING IS STRESSFUL.