Well that was abrupt.

It seemed as though the Indian summer would never end. Just two weeks ago, I took advantage of the mid-70s temperatures by biking in shorts. The tomato and pepper plants in the garden were still producing fruit, although ripening took longer as the daylight hours grew shorter. But no more. Our first frost struck this past weekend, and those notoriously sun-and-warmth-loving plants withered and died in the time it took me to finish my morning coffee. Local trees turned from green to golden/scarlet/crimson/burgundy to brown to bare in rapid progression. Tonight’s forecast is a wintry mix of sleet, snow, and freezing rain. It seems that I have timed my annual pilgrimage to the desert Southwest perfectly (assuming my flight tomorrow actually departs).

Gardening is a none-too-subtle reminder that, despite the miracles of 21st century technology, we are still at the mercy of Mother Nature. It forces me to pay attention to the weather, beyond its brief impact on my daily commute or dog walk. In the next few weeks, weather permitting, I need to rip the dead plants from the garden and cover the plot with a mound of leaves (currently blowing around the back yard). Worms and microbes and freeze/thaw cycles will break down those leaves in the coming months, and by spring it will be a rich organic mix to be turned into the soil – just in time for the next round of gardening.

But I had the foresight to harvest the last batch of peppers before the frost – beautiful red corno di toros, a large sweet Italian pepper. I used them to make a quick pasta dish, delicious and full of assertive flavors like anchovies and garlic (and peperoncini and dried crushed cayenne – you can never have too many peppers!). Served with hearty bucatini, it felt like a fitting tribute to the end of the growing season.

Until next year,

h.

Bucatini with Anchovies and Peppers (recipe from my local paper, the Washington Post)