Summer is dripping away into autumn, and I'm starting to feel a kinship to the squirrels, hoarding away food for the winter. I feel the urge to bake, to roast, to preserve. One day finds me with salsa simmering on the stovetop, bread dough rising on the counter, and cookies baking in the oven. Yesterday it was chicken broth, zucchini bread and French bread; today it's roasting butternut squash and gathering up what will probably be the last of the ripe tomatoes. My garden is drooping, the summer vegetables fading away in the cold and the rain.

What is it about the changing seasons that makes me want to huddle up, preserve, protect? On grey, chilly, days like today, I want to spend all my time in the kitchen, surrounded by warmth and good smells. I want to fill my family with all things sweet and spicy and delicious. I want to save up what I can of summer, before it's lost forever. I wan to pack it into jars and stuff my cupboards full. I want to nourish us all, body and soul.