On September

Transitions, shoulder season, ricotta hotcakes.

September — perhaps more than any month¹ — is a month of transition. If I were trying to be clever, I’d call it a sublime month, because it straddles the knife’s edge between seasons, existing in an in-between state. When viewed on the solar cycle, it’s very much still summer — its days still mostly being longer than its nights. But, from a spiritual standpoint, September is the beginning of fall. The clock turns on the Tuesday after Labor Day, and the world shifts².

There’s a certain comfort to the shifting seasons.

Brendan Marshall

pointed out this overlap, commenting on that feeling you get on the first brisk morning, the ensuing yearning for fall³. Even when the days will still get up to the mid-70s and into the 80s, a morning in the 50s braces the soul. It helps ease you into the shorter days and longer nights, the snaps of cold and monotony of color.

In the outdoor world, you hear this time of year referred to as shoulder season — the period between the peak of summer and the off-season in winter (or, for snow sports, vice versa). Much as I like “stick season,” I also like shoulder season. There’s a quiet coexistence, where falling acorns contrast with still budding flowers. I’m thinking about both being in the woods watching for deer and also underwater watching for tog. There’s no need to rush to the end of summer nor to start the fall. We can simply exist in that liminal state.

Let’s embrace that, at least for a few more weeks.

Nana CWD remarked to me recently that my recipes have been haphazard of late. That they haven’t connected to the topics of my essays, that they appear less of a pre-meditated set-piece and more as if pulled randomly from a hat. Consider this an apology, to her and the rest of you who read this newsletter for the food.

In truth, the recipes have been a bit scattershot. If they feel disjointed, that’s because, in real life that’s how they have been. The Family CWD experienced this summer as one experiences a hurricane — fast and unsettled. Separated from our usual routine of grocery shopping on the weekends, we’ve found ourselves making up most meals on the spot. We’ve had beef in all its multitudes — steaks and salads, meatballs over rice, all manner of enchiladas and bowls. It’s been fun doing short order cooking — a challenge I happen to enjoy — but I am looking forward to settling into the routine of the fall. Shorter days and heavier meals: braises and stews and richer flavors⁴.

Of course, we’re not there yet: not only do we still have two more weeks of summer, the Family CWD is heading next week down to the Shore for our final week of vacation. So this week has been another one of impromptu meals. When Mrs. CWD and I⁵ spent twelve years⁶ in Donaghadee waiting for the right tide to do a North Channel swim crossing, we ate at Bridewell every day. We consumed their ricotta hotcakes with such gusto, that, on our last day, after telling the owner we wouldn’t be back, she gave us the recipe. This week, feeling burnt out on beef and vegetables, having procured some delicious bacon, and sitting on a container of ricotta in the fridge, we decided to pay homage to the Ards Peninsula and make breakfast for dinner.

Combine a cup and a half of ricotta — the best you can find — with four egg yolks (save the whites) and about a half cup of milk. Mix this together with a cup of flour and a teaspoon of baking powder. In a separate bowl, whisk the reserved egg whites until they form stiff peaks — and then fold them into the rest of the batter.

Dollop third-cup scoops onto a griddle or well-greased cast iron pan, and cook for 2-3 minutes and then flip. Serve with thick bacon, real maple syrup, good butter and better eggs.

There ya go, folks: ricotta hotcakes for dinner. Having eaten a lot of pancakes in my day — and, staking my Dad Cred on my own pancake recipe — I can say with confidence that these are some of the best. There’s a reason I ate my (considerable) weight in them over the course of our stay in Northern Ireland. I encourage you to give them a try this week — whether it be for dinner or for breakfast.

As mentioned earlier, the Family CWD is packing the wagons one more time for our final road trip of the summer. We’re looking forward to an off-season week at the beach, filled with seafood⁷, good company, clear water, and tasty waves. Even if you are back in the full throes of fall — with returns to school and apple picking — I hope you take a moment to appreciate this fleeting, transitory season we’re in now.

We’ll see you back here next week.

1. Except for possibly its vernal counterpart, April.

2. The Family CWD went out to lunch on Labor Day itself this year and saw a little girl dressed in a shirt which read “PUMPKIN SPICE SZN.” Her parents left no time to mourn summer before embracing fall!

3. I wrote about it on the opposite side, the yearning for summer, forever ago in May.

4.

Sam Sager

and I were talking about cow progress earlier this week and I mentioned that we’ve almost run through our steak cuts. As much as I love chuck roasts and shanks, they don’t feel right to me in the summer the same way a ribeye or NY strip does.

5. Along with Salty Meatball and Chip

6. A week and a half, but who’s counting?

7. Hopefully some of it caught by Uncle Steady and me — though Kiddo has been going on and on about how much she wants to go crabbing with Papa and Gma.