It’s always happens around this time of year.

When the store aisles are bulging with shiny school supplies and the leaves are just threatening to turn, I’ll glance at the calendar and think to myself, Oh, crap.

Of course, I’m looking forward to the next four months. Pie-baking, tailgating, merrymaking–what’s not to like? But it’s about this time I remember those New Year’s resolutions I made when I was ready to kick ass and take names. Back before it got too hot. And now it’s almost September, and those asses and names are still dangling around the cosmos, still waiting to be kicked and taken.

If we’re going to do some ass-kicking this year, it’s time to lace up our shoes. And I can’t think of a better breakfast to jump start the kicking than this Magical Breakfast Blaster Smoothie.

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When I told my sister I was making blueberry muffins, she asked, “Why would you make blueberry muffins from scratch? Isn’t that why God made muffin mix?”

Totally valid questions.

Am I really going to tsk-tsk you for using a mix? Absolutely not. Because if using a muffin mix means that your kids feel like they’re having a special breakfast before school or getting spoiled on the weekend, that matters. But what’s in those muffins matters, too, and that usually includes ingredients I have no idea how to pronounce, as well as high fructose corn syrup, enriched bleached flour, partially hydrogenated oils and artificial flavorings. Wouldn’t you rather just make something with butter, sugar, flour, eggs and big, juicy, antioxidant-filled, freshly picked blueberries? Let’s do this.

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AmazonEncore sent me a copy of Janie Hibler’s “The Berry Bible”at just the right time, because finally, finally, FINALLY, there is an abundance of berries in the universe, and I’ve been hoarding them. Buying up two-for-one containers full of blueberries, blackberries, strawberries and raspberries and putting them in just about EVERYTHING. Smoothies. Pancakes. Pies. Fruit salads. Tossing  them into my oatmeal. Sprinkling them over my ice cream.

I needed some new ideas, and this book has them. Strawberry Mojitos. Brioche French Toast with Sauteéd Berries. Blueberry-Loganberry Ginger Jam. Hot-Smoked Turkey with Blackberry Barbecue Sauce. Strawberry-Rose Geranium Syrup. Damn Good Western Pennsylvania Black Raspberry Pie. Berries in Bittersweet Chocolate. Pages and pages of berry recipes, some using berries I’d never even heard of.

That’s like discovering new planets you can put in your mouth.

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According to the “Guinness Book of World Records,” this weekend – the one that starts in approximately three hours – will be the first weekend Jeff and I will be at home, simultaneously, with no outside obligations, since the first shot was fired in the Battles of Lexington and Concord.

A free weekend! Time to go barefoot, dance in the kitchen, grill out, sit on the front step and watch the fireflies, catch up on “Dr. Who” and hang out during the World Cup.

And breakfast is covered. We’ve got plenty of eggs ready for scrambling, thick-sliced bacon, smoked sausage, a bowl full of oranges and Ina Garten’s Sour Cream Coffee Cake. The sour cream keeps this cake incredibly moist, but the streusel on top of and inside the cake is the real star – a mix of butter, flour, brown sugar and cinnamon. What every morning should smell like.

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I’m no Jamie Lee Curtis. You won’t find me slurping down copious amounts of yogurt on a daily basis or trading in my status as an international sex symbol to become synonymous with pooping.

Why, Jamie Lee, why?

My issue is with the prepackaged flavored yogurts. Like canned soups, they all taste the same after a while. But I like the idea of yogurt, of having something wholesome and cold for breakfast when it’s so hot outside that you wish you could unzip your skin and just sit around in your bones on a polar ice cap.

So, my solution is to buy a container of plain (or vanilla) low-fat yogurt and doctor it until it’s so packed with flavor and texture that I actually crave it. Crave yogurt. That’s saying something.

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My favorite section of “Bon Appetit”is “R.S.V.P.®,” where readers write in asking for their favorite restaurant recipes, and – voila! – there they are: the wild mushroom cakes from a bistro in Tucson, madeleines with lavender honey from the Hotel D’Europe, vegetable slaw from Loaves & Fishes in Sagaponack.

I love reading those recipe requests. They’re like love letters, so full of happy memories and longing. Yes, they’re written about pancakes instead of people, but who are we to judge?

What recipe would you ask for?

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It’s That Time of Year, and I have been in deep, deep denial. Sure, I’ve heard a few Christmas carols, but we didn’t send any cards. There’s no wreath on the door. The decorations are still nestled in the garage with care. And, ohmagah, my in-laws soon will be here.

So, I made a batch of Christmas-Morning Muffins to fortify me as I haul out the holly. No mixer required. Just combine the dry ingredients in one bowl, the liquid (including fresh clementine or orange juice) in another, and stir them together into a lovely, lumpy batter. Then, fold in a few handfuls of dried cranberries or a mix of cranberries and chocolate chips. The topping is just a sprinkle of cinnamon and sugar over each muffin. Light, cakey, and they smell like Christmas.

I’m going to enjoy every bite of one of these muffins (maybe two), do a few one-armed push-ups, and get to work transforming the Continental Crump House into a Winter Wonderland. Because it’s time. Because we need a little Christmas. And because one of our neighbors asked if we were celebrating this year. Must. Deck. Halls. Let’s go!

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I knew she was holding out on me.

Mom makes the best Monkey Bread, but she only does it once a year, when they release a new “Twilight” movie.

Kidding!

She’s made us monkey bread and hot chocolate (with marshmallows!) for breakfast every Thanksgiving morning since my bedroom was plastered with posters of The Muppets, Bo Duke and B.J. and The Bear. Biscuits quartered, dipped in butter, rolled in cinnamon sugar and baked in a bundt pan, forming a wreath of sweet and sticky goodness worth waiting a year for. Read More…