September here is unusual. On the calendar it’s the beginning of autumn — a season of sharpened pencils, new notebooks, and the quiet thrill of starting over. But in San Francisco and along the coast, September is also the beginning of “summer.” After months of grey skies and damp fog, the sun finally breaks through. The beaches fill with people who gave up in July, the sunsets turn sherbet-colored, and the air takes on a clarity that makes the city feel brand new.
It’s a strange overlap — the romance of fall and the reality of summer arriving late. A month where you might wear a sweater to Filoli’s Autumn Nights and then get sunburned at Ocean Beach the next day.
September is for contradictions. Buying your first pumpkin of the season while also stocking up on SPF. Dreaming about soups and stews while planning picnics on the Marina Green. Packing both a scarf and a swimsuit, just in case.
It’s for the first crunch of leaves underfoot on an East Bay trail, and for evenings that feel like they’ve been borrowed from Santa Barbara.
September is for new beginnings. Even more than January, it feels like the true reset point — maybe because of school calendars, maybe because of the light. It’s the time to clean your desk, write a letter to your future self, and remind yourself that you’re still shaping the story of this year.
It’s for tasting something you’ve never ordered before — an oyster shooter at Swan’s, a spiced cocktail in Oakland, a fig galette from a farmers market stall. It’s for booking the appointment you’ve been putting off. It’s for buying yourself flowers because you can.
September is for both romance and realism. The romance of the first sweaters, the first playlists that make you nostalgic for something you can’t name. The realism of knowing you’ll still be fogged in by October if you don’t chase the sunshine while it’s here.
So light a candle, write in ink, sip the pumpkin spice if you want to — but also spread out a blanket on the beach and let yourself have that long-delayed summer day.
Some In-Seasons Recipe I’m Trying
“First we eat, then we do everything else.” – M.F.K. Fisher
M.F.K. Fisher, who spent her later years in Sonoma, wrote about figs the way most people write about love — tender, fleeting, a little messy. She believed in the beauty of food that was unpretentious, seasonal, and shared. In her spirit, here’s a September recipe that feels like the Bay in early autumn: figs and apples at their last sweetness, walnuts just harvested from the foothills, and the kind of unfussy treat you can serve with wine or coffee.
M.F.K. Fisher’s September Tart
Ingredients
- 1 sheet puff pastry (store-bought is fine, thawed)
- 6–8 ripe figs, halved
- 4 oz goat cheese (soft, tangy)
- 2 tbsp honey (local, wildflower if possible)
- 1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves
- 1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
- Sea salt flakes
Instructions
- Preheat oven to 400°F.
- Roll the puff pastry onto a baking sheet lined with parchment. Score a border about 1 inch from the edges, and prick the center with a fork.
- Spread goat cheese across the center, leaving the border bare. Arrange halved figs cut-side up over the cheese.
- Drizzle lightly with honey and sprinkle with thyme. Brush the pastry edges with beaten egg.
- Bake for 20–25 minutes until pastry is golden and figs are softened and caramelized.
- Remove from oven, drizzle with more honey, and finish with a sprinkle of sea salt. Serve warm.
M.F.K. Fisher’s Baked Apples (from How to Cook a Wolf)
Ingredients
- 6 firm apples (Gravensteins, Jonathans, or any good baking variety)
- 6 teaspoons sugar (brown or white)
- 6 small pieces of butter
- Cinnamon or nutmeg (optional)
- ¾ cup hot water
Method
- Core the apples and place them in a baking dish.
- Fill each cavity with 1 teaspoon of sugar and a small piece of butter.
- Sprinkle with cinnamon or nutmeg if desired.
- Pour hot water into the dish around the apples.
- Bake at 375°F (190°C) for about 40 minutes, basting once or twice, until the apples are tender and the skins wrinkled.
Serve warm, with cream or on their own.
One Final Note
This September will come and go whether or not you mark it. But here’s hoping you find the sweet spot — that you feel the melancholy of autumn and the ease of summer at the same time. That you taste something new, read something that makes you pause, and see at least one sky so clear and golden it stops you in your tracks.
