DEAR READER: ERRRRRMAHGOURRRRRRD

It’s the best time of the year:

Motherfucking Gourd Season.

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some fucking gourds and arrange them in a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table,” writes Colan Nissan in a McSweeney’s article titled, “It’s Decorative Gourd Season, Motherfuckers.”

It’s funny because it’s true: It’s Motherfucking Gourd Season and it takes all the willpower in the world for me to not buy armfuls of tiny pumpkins every time I step into a grocery store.

Celebrating autumn in New England, after all, ends up being an all or nothing kind of thing, with most of us of falling on the “all” side. We throw ourselves into every festive fall activity possible—apple picking, hayrides, corn mazes, foliage peeping—and consume as much gourd-flavored food and drinks as we can stomach: pumpkin beer, pumpkin lattes, pumpkin bread, pumpkin puree by the spoonful.

Although there are quite a few degrees of separation between a pumpkin and the sugary goodness of a Dunkin Donuts pumpkin muffin, this season is about the harvest—about consuming as much pumpkin, squash, and apples as possible because they just came from the ground or a tree, and because we can.

I’ll let Nissan close it out, as he puts it best:

“It’s fall, fuckfaces. You’re either ready to reap this freaky-assed harvest or you’re not.”

Your guide to reaping this freaky-assed harvest begins with our Gourds Gone Wild Fall Dining Feature (in print, page 12). Eat up and enjoy all those motherfucking gourds.