Fall Entertaining Part 1: A Family Sunday Brunch

We have lots of entertaining plans this fall.  I love entertaining.  What can I say?  I had a subscription for Martha Stewart Living when I was 15, and I loved every issue.

I thought it would be fun to keep track of some of my menus, and it's helpful for me to have them to plan for future events.

This was a cozy brunch for four, very impromptu.  We served:

-- Apple Cider
-- Sliced Watermelon
-- Apple Muffins (recipe coming soon)
-- Buckwheat Pancakes (from a mix), with apple butter, maple syrup, and honey
-- French-style Scrambled Eggs with Mediterranean Herbs
-- Molasses Ginger Cookies (recipe coming soon)
-- Caramel Apples (store-bought)

I think that the biggest hit was actually the eggs, and I am sorry to say there was not much of a recipe involved.  I make them the way the Barefoot Contessa does in Barefoot in Paris, and I've done so often enough that I don't use a recipe.  It's scrambled eggs, after all -- just a bit of this and a bit of that.  This is pretty much the technique ... low and slow, and I cook them until they resemble risotto.   I tossed in a piece of Laughing Cow cheese in Garlic & Herb, but didn't tell my husband because he would not have loved the eggs so much if he knew there was creamy cheese in them!  I also threw in some of one of my favorite products in the world: McCormick's Perfect Pinch.  I love, love, love those herb and spice blends, and now am crushing on the Mediterranean blend.

Soupe au Pistou (Provencal Vegetable Soup)

Here is the perfect soup for September: warm, and yet packed with the flavors of summer.  It is a vivid yellow in color, thanks to a healthy dose of saffron.  Saffron and chicken broth were just made for each other, and the taste is warm and sunny and just slightly sweet.  It is a delicious vehicle for late summer vegetables, and besides the fresh green beans, you would be wise to toss in zucchini or summer squash.  The pistou is a French pesto -- no pine nuts, just some good olive oil, basil, and garlic with a little tomato to deepen the flavor.  I could really eat that pistou up all by myself, but it is heavenly enough swirled into the soup, and then dolloped on top before serving to warrant some self-restraint.  Also, my jeans have been getting tight recently.

In college, I was a French major, and spent a wonderful six months studying in Provence.  And when I say studying, I mean shopping in open-air markets for the world's freshest produce, drinking kir royale, and train-hopping around Europe when possible.  It was warm and sunny every day and the mangoes were always so ripe that they dripped down my hand when I bit greedily into them.  I had this soup twice, that I remember.  The first time, I confess, was from a box, and was by far the best soup that I've ever had from a box.  The second time I had it was in the most wonderful little seaside town, Cassis, where I had gone to study for my  French poetry class on the beach.  You should only ever study French poetry on the beach.  My friends and had a long lunch in the sun, started with a bottle of white wine and soupe au pistou.  What is it about the feeling of being in the sun all day and then the cool and warming sensation of a fabulous bottle of white wine?  In yoga classes, when they tell me to imagine a relaxing, joyful place, I always think of that moment, on the beach in Cassis, with the sun and the white wine.

And the soup.  Oh the soup.  This recipe is strikingly close, though in Cassis I had it served with topped with croutes and spoonfuls of rouille (which is traditionally the way bouillabaisse is served).  It makes a lovely light supper.  I served it tonight with melon slices, whole grain bread and butter, tiny ice cream sandwiches and a table full of family.  It was a new lovely moment.