Don't Change A Hair For Me

Los Angeles, California


Know that cheesy program where actors are asked what's your favorite word? Well, without being asked I will volunteer that my most ambivalent word is: change. In my innermost being, I truly equate change with, well, death. To say that change has been hard for me is equatable to calling the Grand Canyon that little crevice. Moving briefly to Washington DC when I was in sixth grade: hard. Moving permanently to a new neighborhood and school when I was in seventh grade: harder. I struggled through every transition from junior to high school from high school to college from that college to the one where I received my degree. Every relationship and friendship left behind still haunts me -- I didn't want things to change. But somewhere along the line, with the inevitable though tentative step toward some level of emotional maturity, I did realize that change is a catalyst for growth. And growth is something I find pretty OK, albeit hard to come by.


One of the few areas where I mostly accept change graciously is with most of the seasons. I'm not real big on winter, but that is about the shorter days. And, I have to remind you that I spend one month out of every winter in Carmel. That totally, as Rick said in Casablanca: takes the sting out of being occupied (though I believe he was talking about champagne, and the Nazi invasion of Paris). Ah well. As of today we are just one week short of the first day of autumn. And, autumn I must reiterate from my last post, is my favorite season.


Here in Southern California, autumn sneaks up on us surreptitiously. It is still hot. And it is fire season, as in brush fires. Still, pumpkin patches pop up overnight, though the pumpkins often soften and perish in the heat. And, in the air conditioned splendor of my neighborhood grocery, I find the arrival of a new crop of crisp apples. Galas, Granny Smiths, Macintoshes, and my favorite, Fujis. I love apples, and I love what goes with apples: cinnamon, cheddar cheese, rum (in apple cider). I love the look of a bowl of polished apples. And I especially love the taste of cooked apples. I'm not much of a pie baker. So when I attempt to peel apples in one long spiral, a la Sleepless in Seattle, what I do with those apples is this:

Apple Crisp


4    cups sliced, pared tart apples
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup oatmeal (not quick-cooking)
1    teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/3 cup butter, softened


Heat oven to 375 degrees. Grease a square baking dish, 8x8x2 inches. Place apple slices in pan. Toss together remaining ingredients except butter. Cut in butter with pastry blender or two knives until it resembles coarse meal. Sprinkle over apples, clumping mixture as you do this.


Bake for thirty minutes or until apples are tender and topping is golden brown. Serve warm or at room temperature, with light cream or vanilla ice cream.


Six servings, more or less -- it being autumn, and some of us needing to bulk up a bit for the approaching winter.

My birthday is in October, arriving each year, as it does, very close to Halloween. And I do relish that time of year. I never had post-birthday letdown, even as a young child. The day after the candles were blown out and the presents were opened, I had to turn my attention to my Halloween costume. Today, I still enjoy my birthday, then Halloween. Enjoy a season when one thing leads to another. So, I guess some things never change. Thanks for reading my blog!