Fall Teases with its Back-to-School Breezes

September Summer Sun Sparkles in September at Davenport Park 

 

The crisp morning air brings focus to reflection and anticipation of what's to come: New school year.  Fresh paper. Clean notebooks. New pens. 

Ready, set, and almost go.

My grandmother warned me that the seasons would speed up. Seems like I just dipped my toe into summer. I push back the rush feeling, and let my mind juggle the events of the past couple of months—the reunions, the dinners, the beach visits, the farmers' markets and their summertime produce. 

And this brings me to the tomatoes! 

If you're lucky enough to have a garden—and/or to have access to a farmers' market—then you know: tomatoes abound! Gazpacho, the traditional Spanish cold soup that celebrates salad in a bowl, is perfect one for this time of year. (In fact--I just looked up that I had shared a version of this recipe on September 5, 2014 in LoHud, when I was writing the Latin Twist column!)

I'm including my basic one here below. So many versions are possible, but this is one of my family favorites: 

Gazpacho

 

Serves  4 to 6

Ingredients

               6 large ripe tomatoes (a mixture of heirloom tomatoes is nice!)

                       1 medium cucumber, peeled and coarsely chopped

                       1 garlic clove, coarsely chopped

                       1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika

                       1/2 teaspoon sugar (optional)

                       1 teaspoon salt

                       2 scallions, a shallot, or one small red onion, chopped

                       1/2 medium green bell pepper

                       1/4 cup olive oil

                       2 tablespoons wine vinegar 

                    Chicken broth to taste (depending on how thick you like your gazpacho)

                       1/4 teaspoon hot sauce (or to taste)

                       1/4 teaspoon crushed oregano

                       1 cup toasted bread crumbs

                       Toasted croutons, and/or chopped parsley, basil, parsley for garnish

                                   

Instructions

1. Coarsely chop the tomatoes.

2. In a food processor or blender, combine the tomatoes, cucumber, garlic, paprika, sugar, salt, scallions, and green pepper.

3. Combine the olive oil, vinegar, hot sauce, oregano, and bread crumbs.

4. Add to the vegetables and blend for 1 minute (you may have to do this in batches!).

5. Cover and chill thoroughly (ideally overnight).

6. When ready to serve, if soup is too thick, add a bit of water, or chilled broth to get a good purée consistency. 

7. Garnish and serve. 

Back to reflecting on this summer, which are still fresh and well documented in photos and notes, continue. I scroll through the memories, which include:  

• Sofia’s Graduation and Visit  
•  Celebration of Sofia's Graduation
• Sol Food Tours' Beginning
• Summer Salads, Ceviches, Gazpachos--and Much, Much More!  
• The Beach, the Beach, the Beach—
• Teaching ESL at the New Rochelle Public Library
• New Babies in the Family-
• Flamenco Classes in Midtown Manhattan
• A week of Flamenco Dance in Sevilla, Spain
• Reunion in Barcelona with my Roommates-
•  MOMA-
• The Whitney
• Farmers Markets
• Dinners with New Recipes
• New Stories to Write 
• Korean Soap Operas to Watch
• Flamenco shows at The Joyce and La Nacional
• Reunion with my Dear Friend in Chicago
• Many, many, many Audio Books to Accompany my Runs and Walks

Like cards in the air, the scenes dance in my head.

And now I plan ahead—notebook poised, next trip planned, next tour planned, reunions with loved ones, dance classes, writing, reading, listening, shows, ESL classes yet to be planned! 

Ah....September! 

 

In Walks September

 

“Is this the writing class?” A twenty-something, light brown-skinned woman asks  me in a slightly marked  accent as she steps into the doorway. “Can I come in?” she adds. It’s about 8:50, and class will begin at 9.

She’s slight, bespectacled, and smiling broadly, though I hear some nervousness in her voice. She sits right in the middle of the u-shaped  tables that face the front of the room. She’s the first of my 16 students to arrive.  I welcome her in, and she tells me she’s from Ecuador, from Cuenca.  I want to tell her that my son lived in Ecuador, but I save that.

“Yes! This is the writing class” I declare, and welcome her into the room. “Please tell me your name.”

“Alejandra,” She announces. “But you can please call me Alex.”

“Okay, Alex,” I say as I scan my roster and tell her, “My name is Arlen. And wow, Alex! You are the first to arrive!”

 “I like to be in time,” she proudly announces.

“I do, too!” I say.

Prior to that morning, I had seen all my forthcoming students' names on my roster, and considered how those names would “translate” into actual people, and how these same type-written names will look differently on that page after today, the first day of class.  

It’s the same feeling I’ve had for years: the anticipation, the excitement, and even some of the nervousness on the first day of school. All of my white board markers are ready, I’ve written the date and my plan on the board, along with a “Welcome!” I’ve played with the colors of the markers so that—I think—the board is visually pleasing. I like to alternate between colors, at least a bit. I’ve got my folders with handouts, and my pads with paper, in case someone needs paper.

Several students follow Alex's lead and enter the classroom. I welcome them in,  and ask their names, trying to commit them all to memory.  They unpack their bags, reveal new notebooks, pens, and sharpened pencils. We are all poised, ready—and so we start a light conversation.

“Probably some will be late today, but let’s get started!”  I declare. They nod, albeit nervously—not knowing what to expect.

And so, it’s September. A time I’ve always embraced as a new beginning. Whether it’s in my classroom—or my kitchen—it’s a time to start something new, I think.

I play with my lesson plans, just like I play with my food. I try to find something new—something that will inspire. Something that sparks interest. Something that will resonate with my students. 

At home, I look for something that will resonate with my dinner guests.

Appetizers for an End-of-Summer Dinner 

For now, I’m still enjoying the farmers’ market bounty. Tomatoes are still out. I’ve even got some green beans from the community garden that Seth, my husband, tends.

I put all the ideas together, and come up with a fresh version of perhaps a dish I’ve enjoyed before. Building—or scaffolding (as we say in the ESL teaching world) so that one idea or dish flows into another. 

The beach is still fresh and welcoming. Pumpkins are out.  September has walked in. 

 

Living Art at the Beach

Pumpkins on Display