The words “wind advisory” showed up in bold, angry red letters at the top of my weather app yesterday evening—the fine print below warned against small crafts on the water and recommended securing loose objects and driving with caution. Around sunset, a rainstorm whipped through the trees in minutes, soaking everything with fat droplets and turning the sky a brooding charcoal. But I glanced out the back window and noticed the syrupy golden glow of the setting sun seeping through a few spots where the clouds had parted.
I’ve rarely seen light like this and it was exceptionally beautiful. The sharp juxtaposition of the dark stormclouds against the pinks and tangerines of the setting sun was breathtaking enough that I stopped what I was doing and ran in bare feet down to the water to take a photo, though photos never do scenery like this justice in the slightest.
Oddly enough, the surface of the water was almost flat, despite the tree limbs blowing so wildly that I went and moved my car away from any that might fall. My sister texted me to say that the wind was so strong on the farm that she couldn’t even make it up the road for a 2 mile run; the fact of shared weather, despite geographical distance, always makes me feel cozily connected.
The day dawned with the same wild winds. I took my paddleboard out and had a brief moment of panic in the middle of the bay when it occurred to me that, in spite of using all of my arm strength, I was moving backwards. Welp, I thought. Should I just give in? Lie back and think of England (KIDDING)? Sit down crosslegged and let the wind blow me out to Nantucket or Fishers Island?
I made it back, and I’d like to credit the 5-minute-dancer-arm videos I’ve been doing with absolutely zero regularity for that feat.
Today I just want to revel in the physical space around me, as it is my long-held belief that the world saves some of its very best days for mid-October. It’s blustery and cold (I’m outside in wool socks and a sweatshirt as I type this) but the sun is high and bright, the sky a silky blue uninterrupted by clouds, and there’s a clarity to the air that only appears briefly in autumn.
Cherry tomatoes litter the ground next to the garden beds: a casualty of this weekend’s dismantling of the plot in advance of winter. A few hardy kale plants stand strong, still yielding enough greens for lunches.
I don’t really want to read the news or a magazine or check my email. I just want to take a long walk and read the names of the boats docked at the marina: Platinum Dream, Harwichport, MA and Ship Show, Dartmouth, MA and Songbird, Milford, CT and Bottom’s Up, St. Petersburg, FL and Shangri-La, Sheboygan, WI.
The best part of this sort of weather is that it’s perfect for both outdoor adventures—I'm still getting tanned and freckled in the afternoons—and cozy-ish activities like baking. I like turning on the oven in the evening and keeping the doors wide open, achieving the perfect temperature in the kitchen with plenty of fresh air.
When baking weather arrives in the fall, I always want to turn to sweet potato and apple and pumpkin, just to usher in the cooler days in an appropriately seasonal way.
If you’re like me, then this is a good recipe to start with: a sweet potato and rye bundt cake. I bake it in a bundt pan, but it’s essentially a pound cake, so feel free to do in two loaf pans or turn it into muffins.
Sweet Potato Rye Bundt Cake
2 cups (240g) all-purpose flour
1 cup (106g) rye flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg
2 cups (426g) mashed sweet potato
4 eggs
2 cups (396g) sugar
1 cup (198g) vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons rum
¾ cup (170g) buttermilk
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 10-cup Bundt pan very thoroughly, then sprinkle granulated sugar over the inside, turning it upside down to tap out any excess sugar.
Whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Set aside.
In a stand mixer, beat the eggs with the sugar until pale in color, about 5 minutes on medium-high speed.
Add the vegetable oil, vanilla, and rum and mix well.
Beat in the sweet potatoes—don’t worry if the batter doesn’t look completely smooth.
Add the dry ingredients and buttermilk in two additions, alternating between each, and mix until the batter is smooth.
Scrape the batter into your prepared pan and smooth the top.
Bake for about 1 hour and 20 minutes (start checking around 1 hour and 5 minutes—the cake is ready when a tester inserted into the center comes out with no wet batter clinging to it).
Remove from the oven and let cool in the pan for 15 minutes before flipping it over onto a wire rack. I like to run a small offset spatula or knife around the top edges to loosen them slightly while the cake is cooling.
Dust with confectioners’ sugar or serve plain.