Autumn in Granollers

Well, here we are.  Its well and truly Autumn. There is a collective sigh going around.  The days are getting shorter and we don’t have to get up at ungodly hours to see the sunrise.  Its pink in the sky at 7.30. A respectable time for the sun to rise.

People are starting to wear darker colours and orange is coming out of the closet.  Young people are getting caught at 8 in the evening in just a singlet while their arms change colour from the cold air.  Pumpkins are decorating some shops and there is a strange dried vegetable for sale in some bakeries. I asked what it was and discovered it was  a moniato. Ahh, that makes it clearer. Lucky for me I’m in the age of google. This vegetable goes under the name of ‘sweet potato’ in English speaking countries.  I love sweet potato with a bit of butter.

That reminds me, while you drip olive oil on everything that is going into your mouth, we (people from countries of old British rule) smother our food in butter. Butter made from a cow. My parents used to use ‘dripping’. Dripping is the hardened fat derived from slow oven cooked meat. They used to eat bread and dripping.

In Australia, the days of full fat butter have turned into days of olive oil margarine, or sun flower oil spread. Its not quite the same. All in the name of healthier eating habits. I’m sure things for you have changed too, but you are still dripping olive oil on everything and eating chocolate and croissants for breakfast, just like your parents.

We’re not quite into the swing of the colder and darker weather yet. There’s a feeling of resistance in the body to adapt to change. Yes, we’re happy that the sun is not so strong, but its not quite cold enough for our favourite winter jacket or to pull out the big cosy blanket for the sofa.

Autumn is a season for change. We have two and a half months left before the end of the year. Do you remember your New Year Resolutions? Its never too late to get back up on the horse you know. I’ve promised myself to learn how to make a great cake, to eat dried moniato and speak enough Catalan that I will confidently say ‘jo’ when someone asks who is the last one. What are you going to do, in this season of change?

Originally published in Revista del Valles