The Grown-Ass-Woman’s Guide to Fall

Autumnal complaints, gourmet Hamburger Helper, horror lit, Calvados, and morning reflections

“Are you online?”

Since Mr Darcy’s first proclamation of love to Elizabeth Bennett, the world has been waiting with bated breath for this generation of men to speak as eloquently on the topic of love as Jane Austen’s cadre of gentlemen. And more than 200 years later, we have it at last in Joe Fox’s autumnal lovesick prose to Kathleen Kelly: "Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address." 

The sound of The Cranberries crooning in that scene of “You’ve Got Mail” flings wide the doors of my heart to fall. As Meg Ryan saunters the streets of New York in platformed loafers and Banana Republic cardigans, tossing her carefree tousled blond locks, which every nineties mom tried and failed to imitate, I am wide awake to the season once more. The orange leaves are here. The cinderella pumpkins in stacks at every market.

And yet, I find most autumnal seasonal inspo how-to’s and to-do’s extremely banal and childish. Many of these “guides" suggest cheap products you are likely to discard in a year’s time. Some are created by influencers who, ahem, have not held jobs outside of filming themselves in a corner cafe while eating apple cake or sipping syrup-drowned iced beverages whilst editing said videos. 

Those of us elder millenials with taste and a burgeoning 401k deserve better. To us, fall is more than an animalistic fervor for hormone-disrupting candles and sugar laden lattes. We dream of more than a lukewarm apple cider perusal of an over-crowded pumpkin patch with poorly behaved children. I made this list with us in mind: the grown-ass women who are not about to waste a perfectly melancholy season on plastic pumpkins, Home Goods decor, and “Gilmore Girls” reruns on loop.

At its very best, fall’s shortening of hours and turning of leaves is a chance to investigate our relationship to mystery, dark feminine, fear, nostalgia, and longing. Here is a smattering of things to help with that; stuff to bring you back to your body without sacrificing your good name and wallet at the altar of Target’s kitschy Halloween finds.

London in the fall.

Calvados

In three words: spiced apple brandy. A handful of years ago, Tony and I discovered this beautiful form of brandy while tooling about the Normandy countryside. Clumps of orchards graced the pastoral wonderland, many of which functioned as Calvados distilleries. Add a splash of this to your apple cake or pie, your pumpkin spice muffins or kabocha squash quick bread. It is also the perfect liquor to deglaze a pan or add to a simmering stew. But this lovely little tonic is really best on its own, with an apple pie late in the evening shared among friends. 

A couple years ago, my husband bought a very nice 75-year-old bottle of Calvados and accidentally spilled some of it all over our console. He and my brother-in-law were later seen licking the stuff off the table. So if you are in any doubt as to the power of this elixir, hop on over to a self-respecting restaurant with a hearty bar. Ask for a whisper of Calvados to see if isn’t the most autumnal thing your mouth has ever tasted. Remember that whatever you buy will keep like a whiskey, growing deeper and sweeter the next year and the year after.

75 year old Calvados.

The Haunting of Hill House

While I love a good beach read as much as the next girl, I tire of the endless discussions on ACOTAR (A Court of Thorns and Roses) and Emily Henry and Colleen Hoover. As if no other woman has written a book worth mentioning! Let us all agree to be better read, especially in the fall. Last year, while in Sweden, I realized I would be celebrating my beloved Halloween in a place that doesn’t do pumpkins or trick-or-treating or any other spooky fanfare. I read The Haunting of Hill House, a 1959 gothic horror by Shirley Jackson, to get in the mood. It was hands-down the most beautifully written nightmare I have ever read.

Upon its release, The New York Times called this novel “caviar for connoisseurs of the cryptic.” To prepare for the writing of this book, Jackson consulted a parapsychologist who studied poltergeists, as well as four 19th-century “psychic researchers” who studied a house suspected of paranormal activity. It is said that Jackson’s own husband would not read the book for fear it would be too frightening. But everyone from Stephen King to Neil Gaiman to Roald Dahl have declared this one of the spookiest tales ever written, and I could not agree more.

While this is definitely a scary story, it is restrained in terms of gore and supernatural happenings. The focus is on the psychology of the characters and the aliveness of the house, and what this brings forth in each person. Even if you’re a bit of lightweight by way of horror (hello, it’s me!), I think you will find this palatable. The writing is flawless, atmospheric, and pitch perfect for fall.

My hope for you this fall is a thunderstorm, a hundred candles burned down to the wick, a glass of Calvados, and hours alone spent on a comfy leather chair reading this, or some other, deliciously horrifying book.

Shirley Jackson

Gourmet Hamburger Helper 

One of my favorite things about being a cook is elevating so-so food from childhood while preserving its original flavor and appeal. Nothing says so-so and childhood quite like a box of Hamburger Helper. It was literally what we ate when my mom didn’t want to cook. Enter Joy the Baker’s Healthy Hamburger Helper, a wonderful elevation of that nineties classic moms everywhere whipped up with immense relief.

This recipe is probably exceptional as is, but I’ve made my own version which amps up the protein and downscales the carbs a bit. Don’t worry, there are still plenty of noodles. Please reference Joy’s blog for more detailed instructions and use mine for what it is: a rough guide.

Gourmet Hamburger Helper

Ingredients

Olive or avocado oil

1 white or yellow onion, minced

1.5-2 lbs ground beef (I buy a blend of 10% heart + 90% lean grass-fed beef for additional flavor complexity)

2 heaping teaspoons chili powder

1/2 heaping teaspoon smoked paprika

1 heaping teaspoon garlic powder

2 heaping Tablespoons tomato paste

few shakes of coconut aminos or Worcestershire sauce

2 cups brown rice elbow macaroni (Jovial is best)

3 cups beef stock (I love Fond & Epic)

1 1/2 cups whole milk (I love raw if I can get it!)

2 cups shredded cheddar cheese (also raw here)

2-3 Tablespoons dried chanterelle mushrooms (any dried mushrooms are perfect for that nostalgic flavor!)

2 big fat zucchinis, shredded on a box grater

optional: serve with parsley, sherry vinegar, and/or creme fraiche

Technique

Because this recipe cooks fast (about thirty minutes from start to finish), I suggest measuring, cutting, and shredding all ingredients before you start.

1.) Brown onion and ground meat on medium heat in a dutch oven (10ish minutes). Add a hearty layer of salt (2-3 heaping teaspoons) and pepper while it cooks.

2.) Once meat is no longer pink and onion is translucent, add chili powder, paprika, garlic powder, tomato paste, dried mushroom, and coconut aminos/Worcestershire sauce. Cook seasoning for a few more minutes or until tomato paste is thoroughly dissolved and rust red in color.

3.) Add pasta, zucchini, broth, milk, and stir until evenly combined. 

4.) Bring the liquid to a boil and then turn the heat back down to medium for a consistent but somewhat gentle simmer. Place the lid back on and wait 10-15 minutes, or until pasta is cooked to preferred doneness (15-20 minutes).

5.) Once the pasta’s cooked, stir in cheese and adjust seasonings.

6.) Serve with more salt, pepper, parsley, creme fraiche, and shakes of sherry vinegar.

A New Pepper Mill

A few years ago, I would have died on the altar of my favorite Unicorn pepper mill from Amazon. But then it broke and I discovered, to my abject horror, that the thing had been discontinued. A truly scary moment for a home cook. After a brief period of mourning, I blew over to YouTube and discovered this video, which introduced me to the next love of my life: The Cole & Mason Derwent Pepper Grinder. When I discovered it in copper, I pressed Buy Now as fast as my fingers would let me.

There are several things I love about this mill: the color (you can choose your own!), the clearly delineated grind settings, the ease of use for refills. The only thing I miss about my old Unicorn mill is that it had a bit of a courser grind and made this absolutely divine crunching noise. Think fall leaves underfoot ASMR. This one makes a much softer crunching sound. But the moment I see that gleam of copper at my prep station, all is forgiven.

Soulful Music, Witchy ASMR

There are many artists who get me in the mood for fall, but two of the best are Agnes Obel and James Newton Howard’s score for The Village. Agnes’s voice is moody, soft, melancholy, whimsical, and mysterious. I reserve listening to her for exclusively this time of year and the same is true of The Village. A couple other autumnal favorites are Daughter, Olafur Arnolds, Penny and Sparrow, Ellie Holcomb, and The Civil Wars.

Two fall playlists recommendations which are great forthe kitchen: one with lyrics and one completely instrumental. Another option: type the words “witchy ASMR ambiance” into YouTube and see what comes up. I love cooking to the sounds of a crackling fire, bubbling pot, and purring kitty. One day I’ll have these in real life, but until then YouTube is a great comfort. A few favorites are this and this.

Agnes Obel

Fall Spice Refresh

I got this idea from one of my favorite YouTubers of all time: Rajiv Surendra. In his video on creating scent memories, he talks about binding memory and scent by repeatedly wearing or using a certain smell. This summer, for example, I wore one scent from Heretic called Dirty Coconut and made a summer drink of lemon, basil, and blueberry ice cubes. In the morning, I would light a candle and burn some palo santo. The goal was that whenever I smelled these aromas again, I would think of summer, and of this summer in particular.

Fall is arguably the most dynamic time for smells. Woody warming spices infuse everything from soup to lattes to muffins to candles. My favorite place to get spices is called The Spice House. I love to use Apple Pie Spice, Pumpkin Spice, and Cinnamon Maple Sugar in our morning oatmeal. That hot flush of steam carrying clove, cinnamon, and ginger is better than any perfume or candle money can buy. Just like Calvados, these spices, when kept in a dark, cool, well-sealed place, will last you all year round.

The Candle 

Speaking of candles, this candle is non-toxic (but actually) and is my perennial “morning smell.”  When I travel, I bring this candle with me to make me feel at home. It’s soft, spiced, and sweet without being overbearing; the perfect thing to light as you make your morning coffee and consider life’s temporal nature. In other words: perfect.

Morning Reflections

In cultures where winemaking is prevalent, fall is a time of taking stock and preserving fruit for later. Something in me wants to do the same but with my life; to stand still long enough to peel back the layers of the past year to see what I have learned. Preserving sounds like a big, fancy word to my non-agrarian brain, but it can actually be quite simple. This year I’m asking the following questions and giving myself a few extra minutes to sit in quiet in the mornings to ponder.

Burgundy in November.

Question #1: What is something that has been giving me life that I want more of? 

For a gratitude practice to work on me and not feel like a bad Hallmark card, the gratefulness I dredge up has to be sincere and bone deep. St. Augustine says that true happiness is desiring what you already have. One of the ways I reach the taproot of my inner gratitude is by asking myself what has been giving me life that I actually want more of?

A few things spring to mind when I tilt my gratitude lens in this direction: my marriage, peaceful mealtimes, a steady income, a few close friendships, reading, my mental health, my physical health, a spacious calendar. These are all things I have worked hard to strengthen. They are also things I genuinely want more of. Noticing this helps me be more grateful and also continue to cultivate them.

Question #2: What has made this year different and how has this changed me?

One of the enigmas of mid-life is that time seems to speed up and become more repetitious. I feel as though I write, go to the grocery store, and clean, but in fast motion. These are not bad things, but sometimes they can mask the deeper stirrings that make life meaningful.

I have been asking this question—what is different about this year and how has it changed me?—for many moons now. It has guided me through some of the darkest seasons of life, when I have desperately wanted a change in both myself and my circumstances. 

Sometimes the answer is hard: life has changed but I have yet to yield to it and accept the consequence of said change. Sometimes it’s bittersweet: life hasn’t really changed externally much at all but internally everything’s different now.

The trick here is to not lie to yourself or come up with “the right answer.” The true answer, while it may not be everything you want, is always exactly what you need.

Burgundy in November, part deux.

Question #3: What can I do to make this part of life special?

Special, also meaning notable, of consequence, unforgettable, rememberable, distinguished, rare, esteemed, of interest.

Here I have no big suggestions except to say that the most memorable times in my life unfold when I have done the least. They were, strangely enough, not the most noisy or elaborate or dramatic, but the most quiet and simple. This is easier said than done with iPhones and computers and family and kids. But we can try, can’t we? We can try to make life special again by leaving it be, by turning off the podcast or Instagram feed and seeing what the quiet reveals. It’s in those unexpected, spooky stillnesses, which reveal to us the true magic of fall.

A morning coffee, a vintage nightgown.

Edits by Lauren Ruef.