September, in October

It sure looks like the entire summer went by without a post.

Again.

And then I wonder why I am not more accomplished, a wonder CEO of some sort, or just a simple professor like I used to be.

I can’t seem to be able to combine writing, or simply concentrating, with having my children around.

It’s not for lack of good intentions.

One of my only resolutions for the summer was to carry a little pocket notebook at all times.

It has been abandoned at the bottom of my backpack front pocket for years. Just sitting there quietly, with its cute little typing machine on the cover.

But this summer, I told myself, would be IT. It would be the summer of conscious writing.

I would be jotting down my insights about mothering on the beach or something.

I would be clipping all kinds of articles about motherhood.  In fact I clipped – yes, physically clipped, or at least marked with a sticky note - several New Yorker articles that I wanted to share, and then proceeded to leave the magazine copies in the various hotels and rentals where we stayed, not wanting to be encumbered and swearing that this time I would absolutely remember what the articles were about and find them easily online once at home.

Of course, when I sat down after Labor Day for the first time in seven weeks (yes, that is how much of summer was left after my children came back from what seemed an eternal stay at camp), notebook in hand and ready to put my summer on the page, it turned out my mind was blank.

I had absolutely no recollection of any of the compelling articles I was so enthusiastic about. Alzheimer’s disease runs in my family, and I do worry sometimes that my brain has seemed rather sluggish over the past couple of years, with the move to Paris and all. But I think it has more to do with the fact that I can’t seem to be able to give myself any personal space when my family is around. Except for a quick run or errand, the occasional yoga class. When my children are not in school, it doesn’t cross my mind that I should expect, and demand, time alone for writing.  It’s hard enough to negotiate half an hour on the couch with a good book. Doing more than that in the summer doesn’t even cross my mind.

Is this the reason why I am publishing this back-to-school post on September 26?

My children are in school, will you say. You should have all the time in the world.

Yes, but not quite, I shall reply.

My fourteen-year-old daughter, for example, has been sick for the better part of two weeks and has spent more days at home than in class. And there was Spirit Day, and a couple other occasions that made the week different. And Rash Hashanah. Not quite a normal school week yet.  

And then there were the family illnesses, a fundraising event in Maine where I am so happy I went. But any weekend away from home will be quite disruptive, not to mention a weekend away from home in September, to visit a gravely ill relative. Followed by bad news from another relative who will not be with us much longer.

September has decided to hit fast, and hard. I’m not sure what message it is trying to send me, to send our family. But clearly, September didn’t want to be September this year. It wanted to be a middle-of-the-school-year slog, with bad news and viruses and all. The New York summer stickiness also made a comeback, after we were tricked into thinking we were being spared this year, welcomed by a beautiful crisp Autumn weather at the end of August.  

Suffice it to say, I don’t know where I am and what day it is, and where on the calendar we are currently situated.          

I think I need to scratch this month and decide that back-to-school will begin on October 1^st this year.     

Except I’m not quite ready yet to dive into apple and pumpkin season. I need a few more grapes, a few more figs.

Tonight, I am making this life-saving sheet pan chicken from the wonderful Colu Henry.

A couple of weekends ago, before the bad news came in, I gave a try to this Barefoot Contessa fig cake from a book I found on the shelves at our California rental. We’ve been renting the same house for years but somehow, I had never noticed the Barefoot Contessa collection. Unless it was brand new from this year, the owner having been inspired by Ina Garten’s new memoir that came out this year?      

Anyway. I think there is still time to honor the fig and make this simple, delicious tea cake if you need a little in-between-seasons comforting. I certainly do and wish for no more than going into hibernation. Maybe when I wake up everybody will be healthy and happy, and my son will have been accepted into the college of his dreams, without any stress at all for his mom.Good luck, and I will see you next week, for the real back-to-school.         

Fresh Fig and Ricotta Cake, from The Barefoot Contessa. Cook Like a Pro.

Ingredients

• 10 tablespoons (1¼ sticks, about 140 grams) unsalted butter, at room

temperature

• 1 cup (200 grams) granulated sugar

• 3 extra-large eggs, at room temperature

• 1 cup (250 grams) fresh whole milk ricotta, at room temperature

• 2 tablespoons (about 30 grams) sour cream

• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

• ½ teaspoon grated lemon zest

• 1¼ cups (160 grams) all-purpose flour

• 1 tablespoon baking powder

• 1 teaspoon kosher salt

• 8 large (or 12 medium) fresh figs, stems removed, quartered through the stem

• 1 tablespoon turbinado sugar, such as Sugar in the Raw or “cassonade” in France

• Crème fraîche, for serving

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees (180 C). Butter and flour a 9-inch (22-23 cm) round springform pan, tapping out the excess flour.

Place the butter and granulated sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat on medium speed for 3 minutes, until light and fluffy, scraping down the bowl with a rubber spatula. With the mixer on medium low, add the eggs, one at a time, scraping down the bowl and mixing until smooth. Add the ricotta, sour cream, vanilla, and lemon zest and mix until combined. Don’t worry; the ricotta will make it look lumpy.

In a small bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt. With the mixer on low, slowly add the dry ingredients to the batter, mixing just until combined. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Arrange the figs on the cake, cut sides up, in snug but not -overlapping concentric circles. Sprinkle with the turbindo sugar and bake for 35 to 45 minutes, until the top is lightly browned and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Allow the cake to cool in the pan on a baking rack for 15 to 20 minutes, transfer to a cake plate, and serve warm with crème fraîche on the side.

Copyright 2018, Cook Like a Pro, Clarkson Potter/Publishers, All Rights Reserved