I’ve decided to take being “stormed –in” by Hurricane Irene as an opportunity to begin this little thing. Maybe it’s more of an online journal, in which I mostly just write about recipes, and cook books, and the caramelized and yeasted air coming out of beautiful bakeries around Boston. Or maybe I’ll write about social work and psychodynamic theory, unemployment, and feeling frustrated by the “safe choice” that is now turning out to be a somewhat dried up well… Perhaps I’ll keep my options open.
Jack and I just went outside for the first time today to get some things out of the car. Despite projections of catastrophic damage (the BOB of 2011!!!!), the worst of the trouble that I can gage in our little neighborhood (the lovely Jamaica Plain) is a blanket of large oak leaves, acorns, twigs, and some very sadly slumped tomato plants from a house around the block. Where do the Canada geese go when it is raining torrentially and the wind is bombastic? Normally they prowl around, cocky and haughty, eating and pooping like thuggish bullies patrolling the bike path and crossing the road at the exact moment the eternal red light changes to green. As Jack and I crawled from what now feels like our little cave refuge, we saw a whole convention of them sitting in the baseball field across the street. Plotting their next intimidation, I’d gather. Stupid geese.
To be quite honest, I’m a fan of storms. Or, I should say, I am a fan of storms when I can be at home and not on the road. It feels cozy at home when the elements are raging. Like movies and popcorn and wine at night, like deliberate, warm breakfasts in the morning, even if what is outside is not a frosty blizzard, but instead a 75 degree, 100 % humidity monsoon. I am utterly undeterred from flipping through cookbooks and checking the other food writers whom I have come (perhaps stalkerishly, as we haven’t met in real life) to think of as great advisers of the delicious sort.
This morning, I made an adaptation of Molly Wizenberg’s “Daily Granola”. For those of you who might not know of Molly Wizenberg, or her blog Orangette, or her book, A Homemade Life (are there such people?), she’s a gem. I’ve been reading her work since my friend Claudia (who, can you imagine, is an actual poet who gets paid to be a poet) introduced me to Molly's blog via a delicious rhubarb pie with orange zest during a visit to Seattle a few years ago. She’s grand. Maybe we will meet one day. Molly’s recipe, adapted from another by Nigella Lawson, called for a few ingredients I didn’t have in the pantry. I was not interested in venturing out into the hurricane of the century (dum dum DUM!!!) to collect them, so I made a few more changes. Jack and I both grew up in Vermont so REAL maple syrup is a staple in our refrigerator. We are especially lucky because our large, crusty gallon is made by his grandparents from trees on their property. It is dark, smoky, and robust. I’m not especially a fan of the “grade A Amber” sort, and like my syrup like I like my jazz singers (think Billie Holiday vs. Miley Cyrus...singing jazz). Instead of using brown rice syrup, maple did the trick. I added some ground cardamom and an extra teaspoon of ground ginger to add a bit of heat. A cave refuge in the midst of a storm should smell warm and spicy, somewhere pleasant enough to stave off cabin fever for a couple of days. The granola begins to smell sultry and flirty within the first few minutes. Like fall, perhaps. Baking those beautiful little crumbles is an interactive affair, as the pans must be stirred every ten minutes or so in order to assure that the granola will bake evenly and not stick together (re: Nature Valley granola bars, not my favorite). You are fortunately awarded several opportunities to admire your little project during it’s evolution from glorified oatmeal and nuts, to … ahhhhh.
Anyway, here is a recipe for lovely granola, by way of two remarkable songstresses of the culinary scale.
Granola for the Storm
6 cups of rolled oats
½ cup sesame seeds
1 cut toasted slivered almonds (available at Trader Joes, but one could also grind almonds in a food processor, and give them a brief toasting prior to delicious onset)
½ cup brown sugar
2 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp ground cardamom
1 tsp salt
2/4 cups unsweetened applesauce
1/3 cup REAL maple syrup
¼ cup honey
2 Tbs vegetable oil
1 ½ cups dried cherries
Preheat oven to 300 F.
In a large bowl, combine all dry ingredients, being mindful of any large balls or clumps of brown sugar that might not be evenly incorporated. In a smaller bowl, combine honey and maple syrup, oil, and applesauce. Add the wet to the dry, being sure to stir well to evenly coat the oat mixture. Spread the mixture evenly across two baking sheets. Bake for 40 minutes, stirring granola every ten minutes to make sure it cooks evenly and does not stick to the pan. Taste it if you will, you'll likely be quite pleased!
Upon removal from the oven, give one last stir to avoid the aforementioned calamity of a baking-sheet-sized brick of granola (though, if this were to be the case, I’m sure you would still survive the storm). The granola might be a bit soft at the end, but it will crisp and firm as it cools. Mix the cooled granola with the cherries and store in an air-tight container. Eat it with plain yogurt, milk (from a cow or from a plant), or by the handful.
Good luck out there in the wind and rain. I’ll be in my warm, ginger spiced cave.
