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Writer's pictureMK

And Now I Introduce: My Dad

Rating: 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋


When I was a freshman in high school, one Saturday morning in the fall my Dad asked me if I wanted a bowl of oatmeal. I don't think I had ever eaten oatmeal in my life, but I was bored and trying to eat healthier, he was rhapsodizing about how great McCann's Steel-Cut Irish Oats, and it was cold. I said yes.

This started a 'thing'. On weekends, I would measure out the two cups of milk and heat them on the stove. My Dad would slice the berries. We would take turns stirring. He would usually take over in the last minute or so of cooking, and we'd enjoy a tasty oatmeal breakfast together.

S'cute.

Well, I don't live with my parents anymore and as a direct consequence, I don't get to bond with anyone over oatmeal anymore. Quelle tragique !

Fortunately, when I went home this weekend, my Dad and I made an oatmeal breakfast on Sunday. One of these days I will need to review one of his dinners, cos he is a great cook, but today we are going to start with breakfast.


The Steel-cut oats are essential. They have a stronger, nuttier flavor, and, when cooked properly, they are fluffed up wonderfully by the milk. Milk, versus water, is also essential. Watery oatmeal is gross. Milk is a sturdier agent that also gives a little sweetness to the oats. Remember when I said I am pretty sure I am lactose intolerant? Yeah, this is one of those times I look the other way and conveniently forget that fact. When I cook oatmeal by myself, I will use almond milk, but with my Dad it is 2% all the way. I confess, the 2% gives a slightly better fluff, and every little bit of bounce counts.

My Dad always slices fresh strawberries and blueberries to put with his oatmeal, and sometimes I go for the same, but this time I went with sliced banana - all about that natural sweetness. I oscillate between honey, cinnamon, and brown sugar for my sweetener, but this time I decided to follow my Dad's example and throw a teaspoon of brown sugar on top. It caramelizes onto the hot oats so gloriously, just looking at the pictures makes me sigh.



Please enjoy this lovely slide of my Dad's bowl before and after mixing.

And here we have mine. What I love about it is the banana and milk add a little sweetness, but nothing crazy, and the brown sugar is just the right amount of a treat. Banana is a sturdy fruit that can stand up tp the heat, unlike the the raspberries I have seen liquidized in the past. It is just such a satisfying meal, because it tastes good and can be refashioned in so many ways. The Irish oats are comforting, warm, and super satisfying, giving you healthy energy to last the whole morning. Then the fruit and sweetener is like a fun way to pick out accessories - what are you in the mood for today? Apple chunks and cinnamon? Berries and brown sugar? Banana slices and honey? Maybe throw in a little peanut butter? I love a dish that can be reinvented over and over again and always pass the test, making this oatmeal my breakfast champion.


As a side note, I am not a huge blueberry fan, and mysteriously a blueberry or two always ends up in my bowl. My Dad has claimed innocence for years. Considering he is a die hard blueberry fan who is always waxing romantic about their benefits, I am so sure that he is telling the truth. The blueberries definitely invade my bowl of their own doing and not because my Dad plants them strategically under my fruit while I am busy stirring.

This is an unsolved crimes for the ages. Please find this weekend's offenders pictured above.


Anyway, that oatmeal gave me the strength to trek back up to New York, battle my way through Penn Station and two subway lines plus a subway-replacement shuttle (side note: I need to have a serious chat with the MTA about shutting down every train that serves my area every single weekend. Or we could just riot. Lmk), and then walk the rest of the way home.

Weary and emotionally ravaged, I know I couldn't have done it without the oatmeal supporting me. Upon my arrival home, I heated up a big bowl of the winter minestrone my Mom had sent with me - hot Italian soup featuring pancetta, butternut squash, and homemade garlic croutons - and that was the reward for accomplishing my journey. Best reward ever. God bless.

So I guess what I am trying to say is, a huge thank you to my parents. Not much can soothe the stress of New York public transit, but they provided comfort on both ends of my trip, and that's an amazing talent. Plus, my Dad sent me back to New York with a canister of the Irish oats, so now I can cook them for myself on the weekends. It won't be exactly the same without him (or the 2% milk and rogue blueberries), but it will be a lovely reminder of a home. ♥️


XX,

MK

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