Let us take a page from Christmas. Don’t panic – we still have a few months to go before we start worrying about that! But summer vacation is over. And school has started. What are you going to serve for breakfast on a busy Monday morning?

I suggest that a little of the planning, just like holiday prep can be applied to our everyday, real life breakfast experience. So easy to natter on about, so difficult to to sustain. Which is why it is a good thing that Christmas comes but once a year. Point of fact, on Christmas morning, we wander groggily into the kitchen, where we always have a couple of favorite breakfast casseroles pre-cooked and sitting in the fridge, waiting to be re-heated. And while you might not want to prepare a casserole or a sheet of sausage rolls every night, you don’t need to panic every single morning about breakfast, now that school is starting, the busses are rolling, and time is not on your side.

You can start off small, with a batch of Scrambled Egg Muffins, courtesy of Food52 that you can bake on Sunday afternoon. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. By Thursday you’ll feel confident enough to toss frozen, homemade pancakes into the microwave. (Emily Peck on Slate’s Money podcast recently extolled the deliciousness of the Lemon Ricotta Pancakes from a recipe in the New York Times – enjoy! Lemon Ricotta Pancakes On Friday you’ll enjoy revving up the blender for a healthy, avocado smoothie. You can make a new playlist for every week, or get some items into a regular rotation.

It will be almost a full year before you will again enjoy leisurely summer vacation breakfasts, spent contentedly scrolling through IG at a picnic table overlooking a lake from your summer rental. You won’t be tasked with documenting the perfect sunrise to humblebrag about any more, either. You are back in the saddle, like it or not. And some of you have young folk who need to be stoked up and filled to the brim with healthy brain food every morning.

There’s a lot going on in those growing brains, and we know that we should be doing better than a bowl of Cap’n Crunch. We want them to concentrate, remember what they are learning, and keep their energy levels up until lunchtime. It is a daunting task, particularly when we are trying to feed everyone good, healthy food, fast and with the fewest morning squabbles.

A lot of the prepared foods are full of sugars, fat and salt; all the deelish things we human beings are naturally drawn to. But they are not very healthy for us, I’m sad to say. And look at that fourth grader, staring moodily at you across the counter. Does he really want a bowl of heart-healthy oatmeal. Not likely. So consider your audience as you peruse my handy dandy sheet of breakfast ideas.

I love repetition. I can eat a turkey sandwich every day for a week. Maybe even two weeks. But you might be a little more normal, and like to shake things up. When you bake a sheet of twelve muffins, that might seem like money in the bank. But only for a couple of days. Don’t plan on foisting off healthy crunchy twiggy muffins on your first grader for the next 5 days in a row. Even if they really seems to like them on Monday, by Tuesday it could get ugly. Maybe you can consult with said child, and see what their take is, and maybe the two of you can make a plan. Rapid rotation is probably key!

Most mornings I have about enough energy and enthusiasm for a slice of cold pizza and the headlines. But given the proper motivation (this list) and a calming trip to the grocery store, even you can have a variety of healthy ingredients on hand to make some tempting make-ahead, back-to-back breakfasts. And then you can devote your worrying to charging the iPhones, signing permission slips, finding the sneakers, getting the laundry out of the dryer, putting the dog in his crate, and finding your car keys.

Maybe the two (or three, four, five) of you can make it a weekly family event. Quality Family Breakfast Prep Time might only last for the first couple of weeks of school before it comes crashing back down on your shoulders, but it could be a pleasant time for you all. Instead of sinking onto the sofa with HGTV after dinner, maybe you can whip up a little batch of granola – which can then be a cereal base, an ingredient in a yogurt parfait, or tossed into a smoothie or made into snack bars.

I have some great memories of times in the kitchen with our children. You can’t expect every minute to go smoothly, and you have to keep in mind that their attention spans can be short (it’s a lasting effect from all that Cap’n Crunch they used to eat). Consider it a moment of triumph when someone learns to measure a cup of whole wheat flour, or remembers to line the muffin pan with paper cups without first being asked. You can teach some life skills, like how to bake bacon, or wash blueberries or peel carrots. And don’t forget about learning first aid!

You are saving time from chaos and tears in the morning, and exercising those potentially sizable and vulnerable little brains. And it is screen-free quality time. Maybe after you figure breakfast out you can all go read a little Harry Potter. Magic!

Muffins
smoothies
eggs
granola and muesli
oatmeal
pancakes
fruits
pizza
bagels and breads

Muffins

Smoothies

Eggs

Granola and Muesli

Oatmeal

Pancakes, waffles

Fruits


Pizza (I had to include it!)

Bagels

“My breakfast is usually a wholegrain cereal or porridge, with walnuts sprinkled in it, berries, a tablespoon of honey, and chia seeds. I have coffee and a little cherry juice with seltzer. I have a seat by the window, and I look out at the view.”
—Amy Tan

Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past thirty years. A graduate of Washington College, where she majored in fine art, Jean started her work in design with the Literary House lecture program. The illustrations she contributes to the Spies are done with watercolor, colored pencil and ink.

Mr. Sanders, Luke the wonder dog, and I have snuck out for the Labor Day weekend. We hope you have an excellent weekend of grilling, fireflies and backyard enjoyments.

Ah, the mixed feelings that arrive with Labor Day: regrets for not having gone to the beach often enough; relief that the sand-strewn car no longer needs to be vacuumed with regularity. Rueful that cooking is moving indoors; cheered that this will be the last can of mosquito repellent we use this year. Hasta la vista, homemade, hand-cranked-by-kid-power-ice cream; hello, sweet treats whipped up in the kitchen.

In theory, the summer has seasonal experiences that we can’t enjoy during the rest of the year. Oh, yes, we could go to the beach every day if we didn’t have middle-class concerns, like holding down jobs to pay the mortgage. And yes, the beach is a fine place to visit in the fall, with sweaters and scarves and a feeling of adventure. But nothing is quite so delightful as sitting in a low-slung beach chair, with your toes wriggling in the sand, as the tide creeps up the beach while the afternoon sun warms your soul, and you munch happily on a tuna sandwich, and you never remember to turn the page in your paperback.

Conversely, I am still hauling the little hand-held vacuum out to the car to suck up yet another drift of sand that has suddenly appeared from some hidden car crevasse from that trip to the beach two weeks ago. Thank goodness we emptied out the cooler. Two week-old tuna sandwiches would be toxic.

I love grilling on the back porch, as you know, because I do very little of it myself. I think Mr. Sanders is a marvelous grill master, and I encourage him to practice his talents often. Which isn’t to say he won’t rustle up a ceremonial steak or flip the odd burger in the winter months, but it is not a given. I like certainty. I like not having to clean the cooktop every night. During grilling season I enjoy standing on the back porch while Mr. Friday flips and times and prods our dinners. We have a little wine, and hold our breath while the hummingbirds zoom into the twilight, changing places with the fireflies, who begin to sparkle. Which signals, alas, the arrival of the mosquito cloud. Not even the swooping bats have made much of an impact on the damn mosquitoes this year.

Summer desserts are simple delights that you can enjoy year ‘round. But homemade ice cream is best consumed before it is ready, scraped off the paddles, while it is still soft, and the sugar granules haven’t quite dissolved. It is always sweetest when the youngsters are cranking the ice cream maker. We have an electric ice cream maker that we have used once. It seemed like a good idea at the time – but strawberries and peaches bought in February are never as sweet as they are right now, overflowing at the farmers’ markets, luscious and ripe fruits in brilliant oranges, golds and reds.

I suggest we remember summer in other ways. A coconut pie in October will cast our memory nets back to sun screen and lotions from the beach or pool. A delightful profiterole, dripping in chocolate and oozing vanilla ice cream in November will harken back to back porch-churned vanilla ice cream. And this lemon custard is summer sunshine in a bowl. Hello, fall!

This is a recipe from The New York Times.

No-Bake Lemon Custards
By Melissa Clark

INGREDIENTS

FOR THE CUSTARDS:
2 cups heavy cream
⅔ cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest (from 1 to 2 lemons)
Pinch of fine sea salt
⅓ cup fresh lemon juice (from 2 to 3 lemons)
FOR THE STRAWBERRY TOPPING:
1 cup sliced strawberries
1 to 2 teaspoons granulated sugar
Freshly ground black pepper, for serving

PREPARATION
In a medium saucepan, combine cream, sugar, lemon zest and salt over medium-high heat. Bring to simmer, stirring frequently to dissolve sugar. Simmer vigorously until mixture thickens slightly, about 4 to 5 minutes.
Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice. Let sit until mixture has cooled slightly and a skin forms on top, about 20 minutes.
Stir mixture, then strain through fine-mesh strainer (I used a cheesecloth) into a measuring cup with a spout; discard zest. Pour mixture evenly into six 6-ounce ramekins or small bowls.
Refrigerate, uncovered, until set, at least 3 hours.
As the custards chill, prepare the strawberry topping: Toss strawberries and sugar in a small mixing bowl. Let fruit macerate at room temperature for 30 minutes to 1 hour, until the sugar is dissolved.
To serve, top each lemon custard with some strawberry topping and grind black pepper on top.

Personal note: when I made this, I do not get 6 ramekins of custard. Instead, because the liquid reduces, I got 3 small bowls of custard. So do not attempt this recipe if you are serving a crowd. But it is a heavenly and light distillation of bright sunshine. Something to file away for a gloomy day in February, when you need a little hope.

“The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last for ever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year – the days when summer is changing into autumn – the crickets spread the rumor of sadness and change.”

― E.B. White

Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past thirty years. A graduate of Washington College, where she majored in fine art, Jean started her work in design with the Literary House lecture program. The illustrations she contributes to the Spies are done with watercolor, colored pencil and ink.

Tempus fugit, along with all the other Latin I have forgotten from high school. I was innocently wandering through the grocery store yesterday, through the produce department and its display of fancy cantaloupes that were neatly piled in bespoke net bowling ball bags, past the deli section, and around the corner toward the Gatorade aisle, when my eye wandered over to a sale wall. I expected to see back-to-school items – it’s almost the best time of the year, isn’t it? Maybe there would be piles of granola bars, or Bluey-themed water bottles. What I saw was even more horrifying: Halloween candy. It’s a million stinking degrees outside, there are hurricanes lurking off the coast of Africa, the hydrangeas are brown and panting for rain, but corporate America has determined a new timeline for me: now I need to confront the immediate future, which is candy corn and tiny 3 Musketeers bars. Where has summer gone?

We have two and a half months to live through before Halloween. To be honest, I am always in the camp that remembers to pick up the candy for trick or treating along about October 29th or 30th. The pickings are slim by then – which is why for the last couple of years I have done our Halloween candy shopping at Aldi – the tempting P.O.P. full-size Snickers bars were $1.19 each last year (though who knows what the tariffs will be doing to chocolate prices this year) and I could afford to be a neighborhood legend for the nearly half dozen children who come to our house. I am not about to spend money on candy corn and tiny 3 Musketeers bars in AUGUST.

No sirreebob. I am going to clutch and grasp at all the summer straws I have neglected thus far. I am going to make some lemonade from scratch. I am going to sit on the back steps and spit watermelon seeds out onto the lawn. I am going to Dairy Queen for a soft serve ice cream that will melt all over my hand and down my arm, and it will drip off my sticky elbow.

I haven’t shucked enough corn this summer, have you? I need to make more cole slaw. I haven’t shelled any peas, or strung enough beans. When did I last have a piña colada? College? (Why on earth do we have a blender now if not to remember our misspent youth, when we made frozen drinks using a blender and the convenient electrical outlet found in the baseball bleachers at Washington College?)

A couple of weeks ago Mr. Sanders and I were in Boston. Oysters were slurped. Lobster rolls were inhaled. Drawn butter was splashed everywhere. Baseball and hot dogs and French fries and Italian ice. That’s summer.

The farmers’ markets are burgeoning with perfection: peaches, pears, plums, watermelons, beans, berries, sunflowers, squash, zinnias, zucchini. Carpe diem, baby.

Spiked Watermelon Lemonade – let us kill a few birds with this stone.

I don’t see how I can possibly contemplate the idea of buying Halloween candy when I have yet to melt my own fingerprints while eating a scalding hot s’mores concoction. How can I move through the seasons without having had cotton candy? Or kettle corn? (Pro tip: kettle corn is a fabulous morning treat to nibble on while circling the farmers’ market on a Saturday. Just as healthy, I suspect, as Cap’n Crunch cereal, and just as disgustingly deelish.)

Sadly, my annual gardening ambition has not played out successfully. I am going to have to admit to defeat in growing tomatoes. We started out with four tomato plants. We are now down to three. The total harvest has been two tomatoes. Two. One tomato’s life cycle zipped from green, to rotten, overnight. The second tomato is still sitting on the kitchen window sill, readying itself to reach perfection while I am asleep one night this week. I am not enjoying much return on my investment. Another foolish summer romance. I will have to rely on the kindness of strangers, who can actually grow tomatoes, at the farmers’ market. I still aim to get my fill of summertime tomato sandwiches, with thick slices of sun-warmed tomatoes, and some tall frosty glasses of lemonade. Yumsters!

Go make some hay while the sun shines. Back-to-school and Labor Day are nearly here. Resist the siren song of Halloween candy corn. Can sweater weather and Christmas be far off?

“Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the treehouse; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape.”
—Harper Lee

Jean Dixon Sanders has been a painter and graphic designer for the past thirty years. A graduate of Washington College, where she majored in fine art, Jean started her work in design with the Literary House lecture program. The illustrations she contributes to the Spies are done with watercolor, colored pencil and ink.