Posted on October 17, 2014
This time of year is so, so hectic (though we probably always feel like our lives are crazy busy, right?). When I think of an easy fall dinner, I often base its viability on a simple pre-trick-or-treating test. Basically, is it something that could be easily made and quickly served to a family (friends included!) before heading out for a wonderfully chilly evening of trick-or-treating and other Halloween fun? To pass this test, the dish must be: 1. Easy. 2. Reasonably quick and require little prep work. 3. Have some sort of protein/substance to it to combat the gallons of candy that will inevitably follow. Look no further, friends! This puff pastry with ham and Gruyère is the stuff that Halloween nights were made of.
Yes, puff pastry is something you could theoretically make yourself, but even Ina Garten says she buys it at the store, so until some super ambitious day in the future, I’m following suit. Trader Joe’s has a version out now for the holidays with zero soy (huzzah!), so we’re stocking up. Because, guys, the real truth of the matter is you never know when you’ll need to wrap something in pastry dough.
The recipe for this is hardly much of a recipe at all. Roll out some puff pastry, slather on some mustard, arrange some ham and cheese on top, and then top it off with the other piece of pastry dough. Add an eggs wash, and you’re done. Even without much effort, puff pastry has an amazing way of elevating something super basic to something that feels a little fancier. Truth be told, I think this dish especially fits my vision of a Halloween dinner because it feels like a more grown-up version of the crescent roll-wrapped mummy dogs that frequent Halloween spreads. You remember those, right? They’re a festive spin on pigs in a blanket, no doubt. But something about ham and Gruyère in a puff pastry seems a bit more elegant than a hot dog in pop-and-bake dough, even though they are most definitely related. Cousins, at least. (And not to knock the mummy dogs. Add a mustard face, and those things are delish.) I’d happily serve this to company, even on a non-Halloween night.
Puff Pastry with Ham and Gruyère
From Ina Garten
• 1 package (2 sheets) frozen puff pastry, defrosted
• 2 tablespoons mustard (Dijon, horseradish, whatever you fancy)
• ¼ pound black forest ham, sliced
• ½ pound Gruyère cheese, sliced
• 1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon water, for egg wash
Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F, and place a piece of parchment paper on a sheet pan.
Lay 1 sheet of puff pastry on a floured board or countertop, and carefully roll it out to about 10 by 12 inches. Place it on a sheet pan and brush it with the mustard, leaving a 1-inch border around the edge. Layer the ham on top of that, leaving the same border, followed by the cheese. Brush the border with the egg wash.
Roll the second sheet of puff pastry out on the floured board or countertop to the same 10 by 12 inches. Place the second sheet on top of the filled pastry, and line up the edges as best you can. Cut the edges straight with a small knife if you need to, and then press together lightly. You can use the tines of a fork to help seal the edges in place. Brush the top with egg wash, and cut a few slits in the top so steam can escape.
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until pastry is puffed and golden brown. Allow it to cool for a few minutes. Serve hot or warm.
[Note: I actually halved this recipe, and it worked out really well. Instead of using two sheets of puff pastry, I just used one, rolled out to 10 by 12 inches and then cut in half (making one sheet the top layer and one sheet the bottom). Use half the amount of filling, and bake for about 20 minutes. Results should be the same!]
I think there are some pretty great spins you could probably take with this. Green apples and Brie maybe? Or leftover Thanksgiving turkey, Gruyère and cranberry sauce? What do you think?
Posted on September 29, 2014
Like any other self-respecting, seasonally driven Pinterester, I’ve spent the better part of the past month searching the interwebs for fall-filled recipes and holiday décor ideas. There were the pumpkin spice latte copycat recipes, the “12 ways to decorate with gourds” kind of posts and plenty of outfits involving riding boots and scarves. And I know I’m not the only one. That “Holidays and Events” board on Pinterest is hopping.
Among the smorgasbord of fall-appropriate pins were also a slew of ideas for what to do with the mountains of apples I knew we’d bring home from apple picking this year. This time around, we went for the big bag (about 20 pounds), so as much as we all like eating those guys just plain, it’s taken a little planning to make sure they all go to good use. Homemade applesauce uses a ton of apples, and this cake uses a ton of homemade applesauce. Oh, and it’s topped with caramel, so… yes.
For those of you who like a dense, rich pumpkin cake kind of recipe, this cake is an amazing alternative. Its texture is very much the same. And it’s appley, spice-filled and tastes like fall. It keeps really well, too, for at least three days in an airtight container (it might keep even longer, but our tummies didn’t wait to find out).
And because I had even more applesauce leftover from the big batch I made in the Crock-Pot last week, there’s a second applesauce spice cake cooling on the counter as we speak. Huzzah! It really is that good, guys.
Applesauce Spice Cake
Adapted slightly from Merrill Stubbs, Food52.com
For the cake:
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 ½ teaspoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 2 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
• 1 rounded teaspoon ground ginger
• ¼ rounded teaspoon cloves
• 2 large eggs
• 1 cup sugar
• ½ cup brown sugar
• 1 ½ cups unsweetened (preferably homemade) applesauce
• 2/3 cup canola oil
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
For the caramel glaze:
• 4 tablespoons salted butter, cut into chunks
• ½ cup packed light brown sugar
• 1/3 cup heavy cream
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• ¾ to 1 cup sifted confectioners’ sugar
Heat the oven to 350 degrees F, and butter and flour a 12-cup Bundt pan. Sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger and cloves, and set aside. In the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the eggs with both sugars until light. Then add the applesauce, oil and vanilla, and mix until smooth.
Using a spatula, fold in the dry ingredients (careful not to overmix!). Pour the batter into the Bundt pan, and bake for about 45 minutes, until a cake tester inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. Cool the cake for 10 minutes in the pan on a rack before turning it out and cooling completely on the rack. Wait until the cake is cool to make the caramel glaze.
The make the glaze, put a piece of foil or paper under the cooling rack to catch any drips before you start. Then, put the butter in a medium saucepan with the brown sugar, cream and salt over medium heat. Bring it to a full rolling boil, stirring constantly. Boil for one minute, and then pull it off the heat.
Leave the pan to cool for a couple of minutes, and then slowly whisk in the (sifted!) powdered sugar until you have a thick but pourable consistency (you might not need all the sugar). If the mixture seems too thick, add a splash of cream to thin it out a little. Immediately pour the glaze over the cake, moving slowly and evenly to cover as much of the cake as possible. Let the glaze set before serving the cake.
Posted on September 16, 2014
I think most people, buried in the to-do lists of their day-to-day lives, probably have some sort of pipe dream, an “I’ll do this someday when life slows down and the timing is right” sort of thing, that they keep coming back to when day jobs get too busy, overwhelming or stressful, and they just feel like throwing in the towel and running in a totally different direction. For Jared and I, that pipe dream involves moving to some sleepy coastal town and opening a great little coffee shop/bakery/bookstore/art gallery, where we spend our days covered in flour (me), drinking copious amounts of coffee (him) and chatting with customers about Hemingway, Dickens and the latest local artist whose work adorns our walls.
I’ll admit, on a lot of days, that dream sounds pretty awesome. Peaceful. Slower. Quiet. But of course, there are dreams, and there is real life. There are real jobs to do, real bills to pay, real needs to fill. Oh, and there are those pesky student loans, too. Student loans for educations that, though certainly fueled and arguably achieved through mountains of coffee and books, have very little to do with running a small business that caters to such things. So for now, we keep dreaming. And that’s probably a good thing.
So we can’t have the pipe dream now. But you know what? I have a fridge full of fruit that needs to be eaten and enough butter, flour and sugar to guarantee a happy day. So I bake. There’s something about making tarts, especially simple, rustic fruit tarts, that makes me feel a lot closer to that someday dream. I don’t know that I want to roll cookies out all day or wait for yeasty dough to rise, but tarts? Tarts I could spend every morning on. I love the simple dough, I love the flexibility in the filling, and I love that no matter how or what you squish inside that little mold, it comes out looking delicious, beautiful and intentional. I only made four for this recipe, and I would have happily made 50. In fact, maybe I should further specify that highly specific dream of ours: coffee shop/bakery/bookstore/art gallery/destination tart shop. Yep, that sounds perfect.
This recipe is pretty forgiving, so feel free to experiment with the fruit filling. Just add a tablespoon or so more flour if your fruit is especially juicy. And for the crust, you can easily sub out almond extract for the vanilla or switch up the oils (the original recipe recommends ¼ cup canola oil and ¼ cup olive oil). Just top the finished product with a good-sized dollop of whipped cream, and you’ll be in good shape.
Blueberry Nectarine Tarts
Adapted from Amanda Hesser, Food52.com
• 1 ½
cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• ¾ teaspoons kosher salt
• ¾ cups plus 1 teaspoon sugar
• ½ cup canola oil
• 2 tablespoons whole milk
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 2 tablespoons cold unsalted butter
• 4 small ripe nectarines
• a handful of fresh blueberries
Heat the oven to 425 degrees F. In a medium bowl, whisk together 1 ½ cups flour, ½ teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon sugar. In a small bowl, whisk together the canola oil, milk and vanilla. Add the wet mixture to the flour mixture, and mix gently with a fork, just enough to dampen (you don’t want to overwork the dough!).
Divide the dough among your small tart pans (I used four 4-inch pans and had a little more dough than I needed; six 3-inch pans would probably be perfect. You could also use one 11-inch tart pan). Use your hands to pat out the dough so it covers the bottom of the pans, pushing it up the sides until it reaches the top. It should be about 1/8-inch thick all around. Trim away the excess dough.
In another bowl, combine ¾ cup sugar, 2 tablespoons flour, ¼ teaspoon salt and the butter. Use your fingers to pinch the butter into the dry ingredients until crumbly.
Starting on the outside, arrange the nectarines overlapping in a concentric circle over the crust, and fill in the extra space however you like to snuggly fit in as many slices as you can. Squeeze the blueberries in next to the nectarines, dividing them evenly among the tarts.
Sprinkle the crumbly butter mixture over top (it will seem like a lot), and bake the tarts for 30 to 35 minutes, until the crust is starting to brown and the fruit is bubbly. (A larger tart will likely take a five to 10 minutes longer). Cool tarts on a rack. Serve them warm or room temperature with lots and lots of whipped cream.
Posted on May 5, 2014
I always forget how much I love spring until it comes back again. The weather here has been amazing lately, and we’ve been soaking up some serious outside time (hence my frequent sneezes and ridiculously itchy eyes. Oh, allergies, you rascals!). I’m convinced that few things are better for a kid — particularly a high-energy toddler — than time spent outdoors, where they can jump, climb and run around as fast as their little legs can carry them. Beany could run laps around the apartment all day and still not end up with the same kind of happy exhaustion she gets from an hour or two outside. It must be the fresh air. Or the sunshine. Whatever it is, you can’t bottle it. But it’s there for the taking.
Early Sunday morning, we packed up the kids and walked to one of our favorite bakeries nearby for something delicious to ring in the day. This place has the best lattes in town, which is a happy thing for the coffee drinkers in our bunch, and Beany gets a kick out of picking something yummy from behind the glass counter. I do, too. After all, what’s a latte without something sweet to go with it, right?
So lattes and lemon donut muffins in hand, we headed back home, where we opened all the windows and let the springtime breeze roll in. I don’t know if it was the walk, the fresh air, the sunshine or the muffins, but it was a really great morning.
If one could, in fact, bottle sunshine and fresh air and general outside loveliness, it would come in the form of a lemon donut muffin. So although the rest of the week is never as easy breezy as our weekends, I thought I’d try my hand at recreating a piece of our magical morning to last us until Saturday comes around again. Oh, happy day, it was a success! Bright, rich and the perfect blend of sweet and zing, these lemon donut muffins will erase the Monday (or Tuesday or Wednesday) woes and remind you that blue skies are ahead. The calendar might say Monday, but we’re still feeling very Sunday here.
Lemon Donut Muffins
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for the pan
• ½ cup sugar
• 1 egg
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• zest from 1 lemon
• 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 1 ½ cups flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• ½ teaspoon kosher salt
• ¼ cup milk
• ¼ cup heavy whipping cream
• 6 tablespoons salted butter, melted
• ½ cup sugar
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F, and grease a muffin pan with butter (you’ll need 9 spots buttered and ready to go). In the bowl of a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat together the unsalted butter and ½ cup sugar until creamy. Add the egg and lemon zest, and beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the vanilla and lemon juice, and beat until combined.
In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. In a liquid measuring cup, stir together the milk and cream. Slowly add the flour and milk/cream mixtures to the standing mixer, alternating between the two and ending with the flour. Mix until just combined.
Fill the greased muffin tins about 2/3 full, and bake until the donut muffins are barely golden around the edges, about 20 to 22 minutes (a toothpick inserted in the center should come out clean). Remove the muffins from the tins right away using a butter knife to loosen the edges.
Working as quickly as you can, dip the tops and sides of each muffin into the melted salted butter, and then roll them in sugar.
Posted on May 1, 2014
Anyone who lives with a 2-year-old knows that they are incredibly adept at rattling off every last detail they know about any little thing at any given moment of the day. This makes for wonderful bedtime distractions:
“Mama, wait! Water! Bunny! Books! My wall! An elephant! It’s dark! More water! Please, Mama! Dada? Dada!”
Lunchtime works this way, too:
Upon seeing her sandwich cut in a snazzy new fashion:
“Yay! Triangles! I like my triangles! Apples? Yay, apples! Oh no! A napkin! Red, blue, orange, yellow, whiiiiiite!”
And then, there’s the grocery store. Oh, the grocery store:
“Mama! Dada, look! Apples! Orange! Eggs? Eggs! Cheese! Yo[gurt]! Nana? Nana! Nana! Nanaaaaaa!”
That’s how we end up leaving with bananas every time. It’s not that we make it a habit of giving into every toddler whim (there are plenty of sugar-filled grocery store requests that go unanswered), but when she’s excited about the produce aisle, we generally try to encourage it. Of course, 2-year-olds are also notoriously picky eaters, so no matter how enthusiastic she is about those bananas at the store, it’s anyone’s guess whether that elation translates to home. Half the time, she devours them faster than we can keep up. The other half of the time, she eats one the first day and then leaves the rest to freckle and brown. That means that half the time, asking for bananas at the store means banana baked goods at home. Wait a minute! Maybe she does know what she’s doing!
I typically make banana tea muffins with overripe bananas because they aren’t super sweet, but these chocolate banana muffins were a fun and delicious replacement. I don’t know why I don’t combine chocolate and bananas more often. It’s amazing! You don’t have to sprinkle the flakey sea salt on top if it’s not your thing, but that salty sweet top is probably my favorite part of the whole dessert. Beany was a fan, too:
“Cocoa nana? Yay! Mmm! I like cocoa nana! Nana! Nana! Good girl, Ella.” (Toddler thought streams are not always linear.)
Chocolate Banana Muffins
Adapted from Fork, Knife, Swoon
• 3 ripe bananas, mashed
• 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
• 1 large egg
• ¼ cup canola oil
• 1/3 cup milk (I used 1%)
• 1/3 cup granulated sugar
• 1/3 cup (packed) light brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
• ½ teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup miniature chocolate chips (bittersweet or semisweet)
• 1 tablespoon flakey sea salt, for sprinkling (I used Maldon.)
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F, and line 12 muffins cups with paper liners.
In a large mixing bowl, use a fork to whisk together the mashed bananas, vanilla and egg until the mixture is completely combined. Add the oil and milk, and whisk to combine. Add the sugars, and whisk again.
Then use a spatula to stir in the cocoa powder, and mix until the cocoa is completely incorporated. Stir in the salt and baking soda, and then gently fold in the flour. Mix until just combined.
Divide the batter evenly among the 12 muffins cups (cups will be about ¾ full). Sprinkle the tops with the chocolate chips, and then sprinkle on the flakey sea salt.
Bake the muffins for 14 to 17 minutes, until the muffin tops look set and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove the muffins from the pan as soon as you’re able, and let them cool on a baking rack.
Does anyone else have any good uses for all of those overripe bananas? Or stories of toddler shenanigans? I’d love to hear about it!
Posted on October 10, 2013
The first time I ate monkey bread was for breakfast at a school friend’s sleepover when I was 12 years old. I remember watching, fascinated, as her mom cut Pillsbury Grands biscuits into six pieces each, rolled the dough into balls and then dunked them into a bath of butter and cinnamon sugar before layering them freely in a bundt pan. Forget the fact that it was premade dough, or that the bath of butter was actually a bath of margarine, or that I was much more of a pancakes-with-syrup-on-the-side kind of girl than a connoisseur of overly sweet morning concoctions; I convinced myself, while watching the magic unfold, that this would indeed be the greatest breakfast of my young life.
Many moons later, and I honestly can’t remember how that monkey bread tasted. What I do remember, however, is crowding around a small kitchen island, a half dozen sleepy-eyed girls in mismatched pajamas and socks, happily pulling off balls of bread, one by one, until our tummies were content and our sugar spots filled. As much as I love baking for flavor, the recipes I savor the most, especially as our Beany grows older and more interested in the happenings of the kitchen, are the ones that bring with them an experience. Monkey bread, when eaten correctly, is an experience in itself. And if it tastes great, too? Well, then you really can’t go wrong.
Adapted slightly from arielleclementine, Food52.com
packet active dry yeast
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1/3 cup warm water (110 degrees)
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 cup whole milk
• ¼ cup molasses
• 3 ¼ cups all-purpose flour, plus ¼ cup, if needed
• 2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 2 rounded teaspoons ground ginger
• 1 rounded tablespoon ground cinnamon
• ½ rounded teaspoon ground cloves
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
• 1 stick salted butter, melted
• 1 cup packed light brown sugar
Quickly stir together yeast, the teaspoon of sugar and warm water in a small bowl. Set it aside for about 10 minutes, until the mixture becomes nice and foamy. In the meantime, heat 2 tablespoons butter, milk and molasses in a small saucepan, just until the butter is melted. Set it aside for a minute or two to cool.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together the flour, salt, ginger, cinnamon and cloves. Attach the dough hook, and turn the mixer on low. Slowly add the molasses mixture, followed by the yeast mixture. Keep mixing until the dough comes together, about 7 minutes or until smooth. (This is pretty sticky dough compared to other breads — it will stick to the bottom of the bowl — but add a bit more flour, a tablespoon at a time, if it seems too wet.)
Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead by hand for another minute to form a smooth ball. Lightly oil a large bowl, place the dough in the bowl and turn it to coat in oil. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place it in a warm spot to rise until it’s doubled in size, about 1 to 1.5 hours.
Butter the bundt pan generously with 2 tablespoons softened butter. Put the melted stick of butter in one small bowl and the brown sugar in another.
When the dough has risen, transfer it to a lightly floured surface and pat into an 8-inch square. Cut the dough into 64 pieces, and roll the pieces into balls. One by one, dip the balls in butter, roll in brown sugar and place them in the bundt pan (distributing them as evenly as possible).
Cover the bundt pan with plastic wrap, place it in a warm spot and allow the dough to rise for another hour. (Although I didn’t try it, reviews of this recipe suggest that you can put the dough in the refrigerator at this point — overnight if you wish — and bake it later. Just make sure to allow an hour for the dough to come to room temperature and finish rising before you bake it.) Once the balls have risen, they should be puffy and about an inch below the top of the pan.
Bake the monkey bread for 30 to 35 minutes in a 350-degree F oven, until the top is golden brown. Cool the cake in the pan for just 5 minutes, then invert it onto a cake stand and cool for another 5 to 10 minutes. Then gather the family, and enjoy! This monkey bread really does taste best when it’s warm from the oven, so don’t wait!
I love how this recipe turned out, and though the process can be a bit time-consuming with all of the hands-on rolling and individual dipping, the bread itself actually comes together fairly easily. It tastes wonderfully gingerbready, and the gooey, carmely outer layer really takes it over the top. And just think how great it would be to stand around the kitchen counter with your nearest and dearest while you pull the bread apart and enjoy that surge of sugary goodness! I already have plans to bring it back for Thanksgiving and Christmas morning. Get ready, little sister! You’re helping me with all the rolling and dipping!
Posted on September 17, 2013
I’m sitting here at my desk with a 50-degree breeze coming through the window and feeling almost too chilly to be comfortable. It’s wonderful! It seems fall comes much earlier in New England, and I’m so, so happy for it. This transition to Boston has been tougher on me than I expected. It’s busy. It’s noisy. I miss the South and the Midwest more than I knew I could. But I’m glad to have a new chill in the air to remind me to count all of the good things. Family is always good. Fall is always good.
We’re taking full advantage of the weather these days, especially on the weekends when Jared is home. After two consecutive years of missing apple picking in North Carolina (my non-farmer mind always figured you’d pick apples in late September, which makes for slim pickin’s down south), I was determined to not miss our chance again. So we planned a trip on one of the first chilly mornings of the season, headed out of the city and into a rural-ish town about 45 minutes away. It was beautiful and wonderful and such a perfect day.
We actually went on the first day that Honeycrisp apples (my favorite!) were ready for picking. Huzzah! Apparently they go fast, so we got there at just the right time.
Beany had an absolute blast. She squealed on the hayride out to the orchard and then wore herself out running up and down the rows of apple trees. She slept the entire way home.
And how great is it that the trip comes with a built-in snack break? Our girl is an apple fiend, and this one little apple kept her occupied for more than an hour. I told Jared that anyone who thinks kids won’t eat fruit needs to come apple picking. Every kid there, from the itty bitties to the teens, was going to town on just-picked-from-the-tree goodness. Basically, we should all have apple trees.
We brought home 10 pounds of glorious apples, and we’ve been enjoying every last one of them. Lots have been eaten plain as can be because they’re just that good, but we’ve also been having fun with new recipes. These cinnamon-spice waffles with sautéed apples are a new family favorite and one I’m sure we’ll be making on many fall mornings to come. Although each element is good on its own, I really think the combination of the cinnamon waffles, maple syrup, plenty of butter and fresh sautéed apples is what makes it such a perfect breakfast. It sounds like a lot, but try it all together. You won’t be disappointed!
Seasons are meant to be enjoyed. So far, we’re really enjoying this one.
Recipe adapted from Alton Brown
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup whole-wheat flour
• ½ teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
• ½ rounded teaspoon ginger
• ¼ rounded teaspoon cloves
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 3 tablespoons sugar
• 3 whole eggs, beaten
• 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
• 2 cups milk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
Butter your waffle iron or spray it with cooking spray, and preheat according to manufacturer’s instructions. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, salt and sugar. In a separate bowl, beat together eggs and milk. Add the wet ingredients to the dry, and stir until combined. Slowly add melted butter to the mixture, and mix until just combined. Allow mixture to rest for about five minutes.
Ladle batter into the waffle maker, and bake according to the waffle iron’s instructions, until waffle is golden brown on each side. Serve immediately or keep warm in a 200-degree F oven until ready to serve.
• 2 tablespoons salted butter
• 3 large apples, peeled, cored and chopped (I like to use a tart variety to cut down on all that sweet.)
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 ½ tablespoons brown sugar
Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the apples, cinnamon and brown sugar, and toss until the apples are coated. Cook the apples for 8 to 10 minutes, until they’re tender but not mushy.
Top the waffles with a drizzle of melted salted butter, a bit of pure maple syrup and a healthy serving of the warmed apples. Then sit back and enjoy that happy fall weather!
Has fall arrived where you live? What’s your favorite way to kick off the season? And has anyone else already downed at least a dozen pumpkin spice lattes already?!? Yay, fall!