Whether or not I'm ready, it's now officially fall! It’s the season when nearly everywhere you turn, recipes are popping up for pies, muffins, breads and cookies with that sweet, spiced pumpkin flavor. Despite feeling like summer flew by a little too quickly, it’s my favorite season - and I can't help but join in the autumn obsession.

I get frustrated when things don't work out on my first attempt. When I'm experimenting or learning something new, I expect to skip the whole "learning" phase and jump right to the "I'm an expert" phase. Obviously, it doesn't work out that way and I'm usually left swallowing my fair share of humble pie.

It has been a busy few weeks. Apparently in the midst of the busyness, September showed up. Is it just me, or does it seem like this month came out of nowhere? Last I knew, I was brainstorming a thousand different summer recipes, and the hubs and I were researching the grill we were finally going to buy.

My husband and I have been asked a few times since we had our kids, "What did you guys find you really needed those first few months?" or "I want to bring so-and-so something they really need. What should I get?". I'm definitely no expert in the realm of motherhood. However, I do have the benefit of not having to look too far back in my memory to answer those questions (I use the word "memory" loosely, of course).

Figs. For some reason, I have been obsessed with them in the last few weeks. I snagged a package at Trader Joe's not long ago, and now all I can think of are fig recipes. I've enjoyed them roasted with a spoonful of mascarpone, with yogurt in the morning and on top of cornbread. You may even see a fig-based cocktail coming to the blog soon. Yup, obsessed.

I've been in a "fruit plus herb" rut lately. I love that combination (grapefruit and thyme, cherry and sage, etc), and you'll likely be seeing much more of it on the blog, but it was starting to feel like those were the only flavor pairings I could think of. When I was given the chance to come up with a cocktail recipe using Hangar 1 Straight Vodka, I promised myself I'd do something other than my go-to fruit and herb combo.

Woohoo! It's Friday! That means it's a great day to eat cake for breakfast. Don't worry, though - it's coffee cake, which falls in the "desserts that have somehow become completely acceptable for breakfast" category.

Like any good coffee cake, this one boasts a thick layer of crumb topping. Messy? Yes...but so worth it. There's cocoa added to the topping for extra chocolatey goodness. If that's not enough for you, there's also a layer of Nutella running through the middle of the cake.

I watched a TED talk a while ago from Nigerian novelist, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, called, "The Danger of a Single Story." If you haven't seen it yet, stop reading and watch it. It's way more thought-provoking than a blog post about popsicles.

OK, now that you've watched that...

I am a total cookbook junkie. I'll flip through a cookbook as if it was a magazine, reference one like an encyclopedia and sometimes even read another like a novel. I'm obsessed.

I firmly believe that a good cookbook is meant to be cooked from - not to just sit on the shelf. The best ones have worn pages, oil splatters, smears of batter and markings in the margins. Sure, many are designed beautifully and chock-full of incredible photography (which I love), but even these cookbooks are only as good as their recipes.

I think it'll be a while before I make this recipe again - not because I didn't like it, but because I made it and ate the entire batch. I started with two pounds of cherries. TWO POUNDS! Gone. Just like that - and that doesn't even take into account the bread and cheese I ate. Oy.

My husband says that wine cocktails make him think of episodes of Real Housewives. When I told him about this recipe, I think he pictured me lounging on the back deck, throwing back a few glasses, getting a foot massage and enjoying a gourmet lunch prepared by a personal chef. (Where the kids were in this imaginary scenario, I have no idea.)

When I was a kid, my mom used to take my brother and me to a farm near my grandmother’s house to go blueberry picking. Being the wise woman that she was, we went first thing in the morning so we could avoid the hot sun – but the two hour drive meant getting dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn to start our adventure.