Porridge is not the sexiest of breakfasts, it’s true. It doesn’t have a stylish name like strata or shakshuka, and it doesn’t have perfectly domed tops like your favorite fruity muffin. It doesn’t crumble into delightful bits like a good scone nor does it fall into buttery shards like a well-made croissant. But when you wake up and it’s 17 degrees outside (as it has been, give or take a few, for the last week), there’s nothing that satisfies like a bowl of porridge or oatmeal. It’s warm and hearty and can be made sweet or savory with any number of toppings. The problem? Over the years, it’s gotten a bad rap as gluey or gummy or just downright boring or dutiful — and it’s because not everyone knows the secrets to making a great pot of warm morning cereal. So let’s talk porridge (also: my cookbook comes out this month! So let’s take a peek inside, shall we?)
First thing’s first: what’s the difference between porridge and oatmeal? The way I see it, oatmeal is a kind of porridge. I think the true definition of a porridge is any warm cereal that’s prepared with grains, so porridge could be a hot cereal made from, say, spelt and barley or millet and rye (I have a great recipe for a 5-Grain Porridge in the cookbook, which I think you’ll really love). For our purposes today, for all you purists out there, this is technically an oatmeal but could be called a porridge as well. Now I didn’t grow up eating oatmeal or porridge; we had a lot of frozen waffles, toast and cold cereal — quick breakfasts that two working parents could easily get on the table or into our hands before my sisters and I jetted off to our respective schools. But as an adult I came to love oatmeal. I started with the quick Quaker packets in college because they were easy and I could take them on the go, but in my late twenties when I realized how much sugar those little packets contain, I started making my own mixes and realized how nourishing and satisfying steel cut oatmeal and porridge can be when made slowly on the stovetop.
It should be said that in addition to having experiences with rather ho-hum porridge, I think many people avoid making it altogether because it has a reputation of taking a looooong time. And it does certainly take longer than the Quaker instant packets or even oatmeal made from regular rolled oats. The recipe I’m sharing with you today uses steel cut oats which are the nubby bits of the oat groat (vs rolled oats which are steamed and rolled to create a flat, quicker-cooking flake) that take a little longer to cook but create a really toothsome, sophisticated oatmeal. It takes about thirty minutes to make a steel cut oatmeal, but it’s largely inactive time — I find I can get the water, milk and oats into the pot and catch up on some emails or read the paper and the porridge is done. That being said, I realize for most of us this will be more of a weekend recipe rather than a race-out-the-door-Wednesday affair; one of the reasons I organized my book into sections (Busy Weekdays, Slow Sunday, and Brunch) is because I think most of us eat a very different kind of breakfast on a hectic work day than on a leisurely weekend, and I wanted Whole-Grain Mornings to be a useful reference throughout the year — for all the different ways we eat, crazy and calm alike. So without further ado, let’s talk oatmeal and porridge and how to make the best on your block. In the book, I go into further detail, but I want to share a few tips with you here today:
How to Rock Your Morning Oats
1. Toast Your Oats!
A common complaint with oatmeal is that it’s mushy and gluey, and I’ve certainly had my fair share of this type of warm cereal. But when I moved in with Sam, he introduced me to the fine (and simple) art of toasting your oats in a little bit of butter before making your porridge. This draws out their nutty flavor but also helps them keep their integrity in the hot cooking liquid so they don’t just collapse into one another. It’s the only way we do it around here.
2. Use a Bigger Pot Than You Think You Need
Oats need a little bit of real estate. Don’t we all? No, but really, if you can use a large pot to allow your oats to sit in a nice, single layer you’ll end up with a more toothsome porridge than if you used a small pot where they’re all jammed on top of one another and you have to stir more frequently (see #4 below for an explanation). It seems odd and a waste of a large pot, but trust me on this one.
3. Add the Oats Only When the Water Boils
The less time the oats have to hang out with cold water, the better. When I make oatmeal and add the oats and cold water together and bring them to a boil — my porridge is always on the gummier side than if I add the toasted oats right into the hot water. I know there’s science involved here in some regard, but I suppose it just makes sense that you don’t want to soak your oats in cold water as they’re heating up — they’ll have that much more time to soften before really cooking — not really what we’re going for here.
4. Stir Infrequently
Somewhere at some point in time (maybe with the resurgence of polenta popularity?), people began to think that you should really vigorously stir your oatmeal and porridge. If you do this, you will 100% of the time have gummy, unglamorous porridge. Stirring oats (and most grains) will slowly break them down; they’ll lose their shape and delicious, slightly chewy porridge will elude you forever.
5. Celebrate Loose Porridge
I think of oatmeal and porridge much like I do cookies: You know how when cookies cool, they almost always become firmer? When oatmeal and porridge sit off the heat source, they seize up slightly and firm up which isn’t what most of us look for in the perfect bowl of warm cereal. I tend to add a bit more cooking liquid than some recipes require, am never afraid to keep adding liquid to get the porridge where I’d like it to be, and always pull it off the heat once the oats are soft and chewy — but also, while the porridge still seems a little looser than you think it should be. That way, by the time you’re serving it up into bowls, it will be just right.
Can You Really Reheat Leftovers? Yes, yes and yes! I know that it seems like there’s no way day-old porridge could be any good but add a good glug (or two or three) of liquid like almond milk, milk or even water and heat it very slowly on the stovetop only stirring as need be to incorporate the liquid and loosen up the oats — and reheated oatmeal and porridge is almost as good as the first day. We just had some this morning, in fact.
Now before we get to this wintery breakfast recipe, I wanted to give you a peek inside my cookbook, Whole-Grain Mornings. I realize I’ve done kind of a sporadic job of talking about it here, and I probably could’ve been more deliberate and organized in sharing the process with you all. Remember when we talked about the photo shoot … and way back when when I announced the project? Well the day is almost here: the book comes out December 31st (although I’ve been telling people January 1st because I like the symbolism of a whole new approach to breakfast for the new year). My publisher, Ten Speed Press, put together a PDF that gives you a peek, demonstrating how the book is organized seasonally with both sweet and savory breakfast recipes using whole grains and natural sugars. Sam also designed a beautiful, beautiful website for the book where you can learn more about purchasing (you can pre-order now and it’ll ship soon!) and find out where I’ll be this winter/spring promoting it (I hope you’ll come out, all you Seattleites, Portlanders, San Franciscans and Vancouver-dwellers; I’d love to meet you all).
While there is so much more I could say about the book here, I’ll just close by saying that we’ve been cooking from it quite a bit lately — ever since getting the galley in the mail (and now we have a real copy that’s slowly getting marked up and bookmarked). When all the recipes lived on my computer, it seemed more like work to pull them up and cook from the screen but now that I have a real-life copy of the book, I’ve been moving back into the pages and back into the seasons and making myself at home. I think that’s a good sign — maybe the best sign– if I pull up a chair after spending so much time with these recipes and pages, I so hope that you’ll pull one up, too.
Take a Peek ….
I love this cranberry-ginger sauce and made a similar version for Thanksgiving dinner a few years ago. At the time, I started spooning leftovers into my morning yogurt and oatmeal — the double hit of ginger adds warmth and the citrus adds a brightness that elevates morning oats into something truly special. You will likely have a little more cranberry-ginger sauce than you’ll need for the amount of porridge here, which is a good thing as it’s wonderful spooned on top of just about anything or slathered onto rustic toast. You can make the sauce up to two days in advance.
For the Steel Cut Oatmeal:
For the Cranberry-Ginger Sauce:
For the Oats: In a large sauté pan, melt the butter and add the steel cut oats. Toast for 4-5 minutes on medium heat or until fragrant (will smell slightly nutty).
In a large heavy-bottomed pot, bring the almond milk, water, salt, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg to a slow boil over medium heat. Add the toasted oats and gently stir to incorporate them into the liquid. Return to a boil, then partially cover the pot and decrease the heat to low, cooking until the porridge has thickened and the oats have softened, about 25-30 minutes. You’re looking for a porridge that will be a little loose when you pull it off the stove – it will continue to thicken off the heat.
For the Cranberry-Ginger Sauce: Bring the cranberries, honey, brown sugar, cinnamon stick, ginger, cloves, and orange juice to a simmer in a medium saucepan. Cover the mixture and allow it to cook on medium-low heat for 5-7 minutes, or until the cranberries are just beginning to burst and you notice the mixture thickening.
Add the chopped candied ginger and orange zest and stir to combine. Simmer uncovered for an additional 1 to 2 minutes, or until cranberries have burst and are softening into more of a sauce (it will continue to thicken off the heat, too). Remove the cinnamon stick. If you like a looser sauce, add water, 2 tablespoons at a time.
To serve: Ladle large spoonfuls of porridge into bowls and top with toasted almonds, cranberry sauce and a little cream if you like (we do).
On Monday our little family of three is headed to the airport at 6 am to board our first with-baby cross-country trip. We'll be visiting Sam's family in New Jersey for a few days, then renting a car and driving over to meet up with my family at my mom's lake house in the Adirondacks. Sam's younger sister and her kids have yet to meet Oliver; my grandpa has yet to meet him, and Oliver has yet to take a dunk in a lake, see a firefly, or spend quality time with energetic dogs -- of which there will be three. A lot of firsts. This week my family has been madly texting, volunteering to make certain meals or sweets on assigned days while we're at the cabin and it got me thinking about really simple, effortless summer desserts -- in particular, ones that you can make while staying in a house with an unfamiliar kitchen and unfamiliar equipment and still do a pretty bang-up job. I think fruit crisp is just that thing.
Somehow, in what seems to have been a blink of an eye, we have a six month old baby. In some ways I can't remember a time we didn't have an Oliver, and in other ways it's all a blur broken up by a few holidays (a Thanksgiving thanks to grocery store takeout, and our very first Christmas in Seattle), a few family visits, a one-day road trip to Portland, a birthday dinner out, a birthday cake, weekend drives to nowhere in particular, swimming at the pool with Oliver, weekly get-togethers with our parent's group, doctor's visits, hundreds of walks around the neighborhood, hundreds of cups of coffee, dozens (or more?) of scoops of ice cream. Most of the worrying about keeping a baby alive has made way for other concerns, and Oliver's need for constant stimulation or soothing walks and car rides has been traded for stretches of time playing with a new toy or checking out his surroundings. In truth, it's thanks to that tiny bit of baby independence that this humble, summery cake came to be in the first place. So we've all got an Oliver to thank for that. Or, really, we have a Yossi Arefi to thank, as it's from her beautiful new cookbook that I've bookmarked heavily and am eager to continue exploring.
We walked to the library last week and I had a strange realization standing in line watching Sam check out his usual massive stack of books: Will I ever have the time to read stacks of books again? I used to be much more of a reader than I am today -- a fact I'm not at all proud of. But when evening rolls around and the more formal workday ends, I find emails and other odds and ends creep in. Walking home from the library, I began obsessing over free time for reading, asking Sam if we'd ever be those two old people who study bird manuals and can recognize birds on walks. I want to have the time to read bird manuals someday. For now though, we're young and we're working a lot. We did sneak away on that one-night camping trip I told you about, and cooked some interesting, haphazard meals which I hope to share with you soon. For now though, for summer: a strawberry dessert recipe.
Much like friends, types of Sunday mornings, or books -- there are many different kinds of desserts. Sometimes you may be in the mood for a light French cake piled high with summer fruit. Other days, a thick slice of fragrant pound cake will do. And then there are those days when you crave a rich chocolate mousse that you share after a night of good conversation and a little too much wine. But let's be honest. When it comes right down to it, the most basic and unassuming dessert of all is sometimes the only one that will do. A good and simple affair. Vanilla ice cream. So I want to talk about that today--about a dessert that withstands the test of time, that will always be there for you. A dessert that is far from trendy, that doesn't play favorites or trick you into thinking it's something that it's not. It's a good foundation. A solid beginning.
[ Pie. if you've been around here much in the last few months, you know that I make pie. A lot of pie. And I'm particularly excited to share this pie with you today because it helped me break out of a rut. A pie rut. A baking rut. A Marge inspiration rut.