Fall is definitely my favorite season in New England. Beside the beautiful colorful foliage that cheers up the country and city parks, there are winter squashes. Butternut, acorn, red kuri, pumpkin. Oh, there are so many of them, in so many original shapes and attractive colors! I am always waiting for this time of year to bring them to our dinner table–at least twice a week, most likely more. Lulu, too, approves.

This recipe is a good example. It’s a savory crumble that I created for the Boston Globe Food section. It’s absolutely gorgeous.

Take a sweet crumble and replace the sugar with cheese, spice and herbs, and the fruit with vegetables and more cheese. Variants are endless, and this one is only one of the many savory crumbles that I enjoy to prepare.

Think about it as a side dish for your Thanksgiving dinner. Something new and distinctive to bring to the table to surprise your guests.

Follow the link here for the recipe.

You probably recall that I recently wrote about making nutritious healthy baby food. What I didn’t tell you then, I realize, is about the utensil I actually use to prepare meals for Lulu. Magical! Oh how grateful I am to own a Beaba Babycook! It’s really the best kitchen gadget for a new maman! Perhaps you think you do not need one, and that’s fine too, but I must say that, it’s really simplified the preparation of Lulu’s foods. The bonus? It’s useful for that purpose and for whatever else you want.

So I wrote about it for Short Orders in the Boston Globe’s food section–and the article can be found here.

Today, for example, I prepared a white sweet potato, purple turnip and chicken meal for Lulu. I flavored her food with garlic and coriander. She ate the whole thing, with red quinoa on the side. Meanwhile, I was having a carrot and parsnip soup with coriander too. She ate some of that as well! And I ate some of hers.

We were in fact both enjoying one of the last supplies of local vegetables from our farmer’s market. I told Lulu how sad I was to see them go for the winter. She gave me a cuddle. Then we went to the park and she would not love the swing.

It made the two of us happy. With very happy bellies too.

I’d been thinking about spending a long weekend on Martha’s Vineyard island for a while. Ever since we’d returned from France in late August. I knew we would wait until the summer crowds were gone and the place would become tranquil, with the exception of the activities of the locals and occasional visitors, like us.

At first, I tried to reason myself, though, thinking ce n’est pas raisonnable Béa!, but the thought faded. Really vanished, in fact. And fairly quickly, I could hear the pleasing melody of an insisting voice whispering softly into my ear: Just do it, you’ll love it!.

And this is where the story started.

One morning, in early September, I told P. in an assertive tone: “We’re going to Martha’s Vineyard!” I remember him looking back at me without showing any sign of surprise. And then he smiled. “Ooh, je sais!” he said. “I know you well enough!”

And so this is how on Saturday of last week, with the car loaded with luggage, a loaf of chocolate cake , fresh produce and groceries, we hopped on the ferry that took us to the island.

And ooh how glad I am we made the trip!

To start, there was the lovely house where we stayed. Set in a secluded area near the gorgeous Long Pond Wildlife Refuge, it was full of charm and character. Because of its large open living area and perfectly equipped kitchen, we immediately felt cozy staying there.

“What a gem!” I exclaimed after I walked inside. My eyes were immediately drawn to the long farm dining table and tall silver milk jug sitting in the middle of it. I so much wanted it!

The house had inviting patios with colorful long chairs where we relaxed, enjoying an early morning cup of tea in the shade of the tall oak trees surrounding the place. The decor witnessed an obvious attention to detail. And naturally, Lulu made the place her home too, crawling into every corner she could find. Finding them all, in fact!

We had visited the island once before, but never in the fall. It was a real chance to be there at this time of year: the trees were magnificent, showcasing the first shades of red, orange and yellow which confirm that fall is winning over Nature; the beaches were empty.

We did easy things, clearly with the intention to catch up with life and spend quality time together. Just the three of us, as a family.

So we enjoyed long breakfasts, napped, played and read books with Lulu. We took walks to the beach and visited local farms where we bought apples. In the mornings, I also set time to work on my book, and then, in the midst of our daily activities, I cooked homey foods for us to enjoy.

Of course, how could I have done otherwise?

One night, I prepared a pot of winter squash soup that we ate with cheese, crusty bread, salad and fried eggs. One morning, I served lemon poppyseed pancakes at the breakfast table and the next day, we started with bowls of warm porridge topped with brown sugar, roasted nuts and blueberries.

On another evening, I stuffed eggplants and served them with sauteed quinoa and a tossed salad on the side.

Lunch was made of straightforward but nourishing foods: a mixed rice salad with cheese and leftovers from dinner the night before or plates of spicy tagliatelle cooked with lime and zucchini, and topped with generous amount of freshly grated parmesan cheese.

With dessert to finish our meals.

One evening, I baked apples in a light sweet sauce infused with vanilla, cinnamon and lemon and served the fruit with yogurt on the side. The juice the fruit released was so rich in taste that P. and I kept adding yogurt to our plates to prolong the taste in our mouth. Actually we were so eager for more that the next day, I baked another batch to repeat the experience over again.

And another night, we enjoyed coconut rice pudding with pomegranate seeds and cranberry sauce, scraping the pot to the last bit of rice.

Our meals were made of humble, rustic foods that, in many ways, connected us even more to the tranquil slow time we had decided to have.

“It was too nice to be real,” I said to P. on the last morning while we were packing the car. I just didn’t feel like going home!

“Me neither,” he said. ”

It’s a simple idea to have a weekend like this one, doing uncomplicated things; it’s a down-to-earth episode in our life with, at its center, family, nature and food.

“Easy!” he added. “We’ll just have to come back.”

It was all I needed and wanted to hear.

I haven’t got much to chat about, but I just could not wait to share these lovely jewels Lulu and I found yesterday at the farmer’s market. My kitchen is turning into a tomato house. I swear!

While I was preparing dinner last night (stuffed tomatoes, tada!) — and I was starving — I ate them as I would strawberries. The best summer snack! I’m sure you have similar goodies at home, non?

Have a great weekend everyone! It’s promising to be a fantastic Indian-summerish one here. Oh it’s the best time of year! We’ll be eating many more tomatoes I feel.

“Oh, that’s so nice!” my friend E. exclaimed when I placed the small plates on the table. She had stopped by on her way back from the market and I had asked her to stay for lunch. I wanted to share my tomatoes with her, or else I was worried they would spoil too quickly. So it didn’t matter that I didn’t have real lunch plans. I remembered the tomatoes lined on the kitchen window sill, perfectly happy it seemed to receive more of the warm afternoon sun, and the idea of tomato millefeuilles popped into my head.

So this is one of the ways we started to eat our delicious Heirloom tomatoes, dressed up in a millefeuille. The flavor of tomatoes stands as the queen in this summery dish. It’s a classic: fine slices of fresh mozzarella with juicy sun-filled tomatoes, olive oil with body, the best you have handy, fragrant basil, a tasteful aged balsamic vinegar and salt with character. The association works at each time.

And for the days that followed, I prepared the same appetizer for P. and I, with this time, the tomatoes more casually layered on a plate.

It’s a dish simple to prepare, one that makes you rejoice about summer.

And homegrown seasonal tomatoes.

I really think it’s going to be difficult to appreciate tomatoes in other seasons than summer. Tomatoes are really meant to be eaten now, even if this year has been somewhat a hard one for them.

I’ll come back to tell you more.

After one single bite into the plump fruit, I fell in love.

I had not seen Rainier cherries before I moved to the US. Where I am from in France, we grow des cerises noires (black cherries) and des cerises aigres (sour cherries) , delicious and juicy, especially those I am able to pick and eat right from the cherry trees. But Rainier cherries have a je-ne-sais-quoi that takes any variety of cherries a step up. They are sweeter and with their yellow orange hue, seem to be smiling and beaming like the sunshine at sunset.

I remember that when my father and I talked over the phone one Sunday sometime in June, he had told me that their cherry trees were so heavy with fruit that every day during an entire week, he filled buckets with delicious overly ripe fruit, which incidentally made every neighbor and friend stopping by happy as he gave the buckets away. C’est une année à fruits (It’s a good year for fruit), he had carried on, explaining at length how they were going to use the fruit. My father likes to talk about those things too.

My parents worked as a team: while my father was busy with the picking, my mother made jams and filled bags for the freezer. Then, she used the leftovers in clafoutis and tarts.

“Il y aura encore des cerises et des groseilles quand on vient ?” (Will there still be cherries and red currants when we come?) I eagerly asked when, a few weeks later, we chit chatted about this and that as we were — are — getting ready for our upcoming stay with them.

“Ah non ma grande, ça malheureusement c’est déjà fini!” (Oh no, that’s unfortunately already over!)

They knew well that I was going to be disappointed to hear that. This time of year is so special!

So instead, I indulged in Rainier cherries and all the other pretty fruits rouges (red berries) that summer offers here too, and that I am such a fan of. And then fairly quickly, I forgot that I was jealous of my parents’ cerisiers (cherry trees) and cherries and red currants. I could have a taste too and c’est mieux que rien ! (It’s better than nothing!)

I’m sure you know that Rainier cherries come from Washington State, and are a cross between the Bing and Van varieties. Since these jewels have appeared in my local store, I never seem to have enough of them. In fact, every time I buy a bag, I have a plan to cook something cute and scrumptious with them, but they rarely seem to make it into a dish.

Instead, we love to eat them nature.

I like to wash a few handfuls and keep them in a bowl on the kitchen island. I look at them and they make me smile. They are a favorite snack every time I walk by — and I’d walk around with pits in my mouth. At other times, P. and I enjoy them in a fruit plate after dinner, with a little cane sugar sprinkled on top, and a large bowl of sheep plain yogurt and homemade granola on the side.

It’s nice and simple but so rewarding. It makes us rejoice in summer, especially if we are able to eat sitting outside, with the grass brushing against our feet, and nothing to worry about but enjoy the moment — and the fruit.

But on some days, these summer fruit really inspire me to prepare a more elaborate dessert or a salad.

Like these two recipes.

My first idea was to bake a fruit crumble. P. and I really love crumbles! Do you too?

A crumble is one of many comforting everyday desserts so easy to make, one that always seems to welcome any seasonal fruit wonderfully. It does not matter whether the fruit isn’t the prettiest; it’s always going to be tasty in a crumble. In this recipe for example, I combined Rainier cherries and red and white currants and I tossed them in cane sugar and lime juice. Then, I topped the fruit with a mixture made with almond meal, quinoa flour, butter, brown sugar and a generous amount of nuts. With the sweetness of the cherries balancing the tarter taste of the currants, the dessert bursted with flavor. I think that like P. and I, you’ll fall in love with it!

Then on that same day, as I was about to prepare my lunch, I thought about adding Rainier cherries in a crunchy fennel and radish salad. I completed the dish with my favorite soft goat cheese and freshly chopped chives picked in the garden. It was delicious and refreshing, so much so that I made more to accompany our dinner the next day. A recipe that is a real keeper.

And when I was done with my bag of cherries and boxes of currants, I walked to the store to buy more.

I am sure that you’ve already noticed that I am just addicted. It shows and I cannot help it.

Be aware, it’s contagious.

I love spaghetti. Don’t you? I like that to eat the pasta, I have to skillfully roll it around the fork before I can slip the food inside my mouth. It’s an art that my grandfather Eugène playfully taught my brother B. and I to master when we were little — well, I think we particularly loved the mess we used to make with the spaghetti.

When I thought about my next contribution to the Seasons column of the Boston Globe food section, I immediately imagined a refreshing dish matching the season. I wanted food that takes no time to prepare and uses the best of the seasonal ingredients. Words like arugula — with its delicious lemon-peppery flavor and pretty lace-shaped leaves — lime, tasty cherry tomatoes, feta cheese and flavorful aged parmesan popped into my head, and I had a dish and a recipe.

I know that most of you — including me — use arugula in a salad. But have you tried the greens on top of a pizza, a tomato tart or in a dish of pasta? This is how this recipe uses it. Arugula is only added at the end and cooks from the heat of the spaghetti. It’s the kind of food that you’ll love to improvise at the last minute and share with a bunch of friends when they stop by unexpectedly — a recipe that makes you want to thank and kiss the Italians for bringing spaghetti and arugula to our table.

The recipe can be found here.

June.

Juin

Is it real?

Tomorrow is my older brother B.’s birthday. He will be 43 — and he will probably spend his day in his wonderful garden. A gift.

So I can’t believe it’s June! I know, you’ve heard me say this before. But really, I mean it. This time, it’s just too quick to arrive.

My apologies for not being able to respond to your emails and notes, or being more present. I don’t like it — hopefully you won’t even have noticed — but I am simply not able to follow up right now. I have the cookbook to finish in a month.

Yes, you read well.

A short month.

With our Lulu to take care of, growing by the second, by my side. She’s all about stuffing her feet into her mouth at the moment. It’s her new thing. I had forgotten how fascinating a pair of feet can be. Oh, and blowing bubbles with her lips pursed too. That’s actually quite funny! I must say, I’ve spent a fair amount observing and discovering things through her fresh eyes. And giving her kisses — at least ten at a time — every two minutes.

It’s addictive.

Needless to say that I am b.u.s.y! Too busy!

It will change over time.

Now, of course, I am not complaining. It’s all fulfilling. But frankly, I’ll be happy to get to the depth of the summer when P., Lulu and I travel to Ireland and France — oh I love it already — and we can take long walks through the fields in the countryside, à la campagne, and smell the flowers again.

I cannot wait.

So I thought I would stop by quickly today, to share a recipe I’ve enjoyed preparing for my lunches these past weeks.

It’s a dish full of vitamins, taste and color — that’s, if like me, you like the color green and spring vegetables and a vanilla-flavored vinaigrette to go with it. But it’s also all about the egg too, you know, the kind you cook on the runny side. We call them oeufs mollets in French.

I just like the name.

And it’s just the type of foods that I need at the moment to keep me to go forward.

Well, you can try and tell me what you think.

We love soft fresh goat cheese.

Everyone in my family, in fact, except my dad. One of the best memories I keep from the yearly summer trips my family took to southwest France was the weekly expédition to the marché where, invariably, we would return with a few fromages de chèvre frais (soft fresh goat cheese) in our basket. These types of goat cheese were made by local artisans and had me dream of owning goats, so that one day, I would too be able to make that delicious type of goat cheese. I really loved the idea.

But of course, that never happened.

I don’t own goats — although I am still in the love with the idea — but I am a huge fan of fromage de chèvre frais.

Much to my regret, that type of cheese is hard to find where I live. Or at least this is what I thought before I recently visited Formaggio, in the hope of buying goat cheese for a recipe I was writing for the Boston Globe.

“What fresh goat cheese would you recommend?” I asked the young girl at the cheese section of the small Cantabrigian delicacy store. Lulu was staring at the glass window behind which various attractive goat cheese were on display.

“You’ll love this one,” she answered without hesitation. She was pointing at a small table hidden in a corner, where two types of cheese were arranged for sampling. “It’s Belgian and really tasty. Would you like to try some?”

She was right.

The cheese was perhaps not looking like those I remembered from my vacations, but it was still excellent: extremely light and balanced, and with great texture.

“It’s a St Maure? I’ve never heard about this one,” I said, feeling content to have discovered something new.

“You know what Lulu? We’ll come back soon to buy more,” I told her as we returned to the car.

I used the cheese for the Herb and Red Peppercorn Goat cheese recipe I wrote this week for the Seasons Column of the Boston Globe.

It’s always nice to have this kind of recipe handy, should you feel like enjoying an easy-to-make, yet dressed-up snack. We ate ours with crusty baguette and red wine a few weekends ago, when our friend J. came to visit.

The whole thing disappeared within minutes.

It happens that quickly, with tasty fromage de chèvre.