Oatmeal's Revenge

I GREW UP IN TEXAS. Probably the wealthiest family in the area were the owners of a large ranch. One day when I was very young, for reasons now lost to time, this family invited my parents to dinner.

In retrospect, I realize it's likely my parents were not expected to arrive accompanied by a minor. But that wasn't my parents' style (I cannot remember ever having a babysitter), so the three of us arrived together at the grand hacienda.

The next thing I knew, my parents were being ushered to a beautifully set dining table while I was being hauled off into the kitchen to eat with the rest of the children. That alone was enough to infuriate me in those days. But imagine my ire when I discovered that, while the adults were experiencing what Texans considered fine dining, the children were being given ... oatmeal.

And by oatmeal I mean just oatmeal. It appeared to have been made with water. If salt was used, it was imperceptible. And nothing was placed on the table that might afflict the tastelessness of this meal. No salt, no butter, no milk, no sugar.

So of course I refused to eat it.

The story might well end there--I would have gotten hungry, but my parents would have fed me when we got home and everything would have been find. Except that wealthy Texans in those days were big on discipline, this distinguished household had a rule that children were to eat whatever they were given.

I was ordered to eat. I balked. I was hauled, crying, out into the dining room where the adults were in the middle of their sumptuous meal (evidently it never occurred to anyone that flaunting what the adults were eating might not be the best way to get me to eat the wallpaper paste waiting in the kitchen).

My parents, who had never forced me to eat anything I didn't want to, were helpless. And so the rancher himself stepped up to deliver ... you guessed it, the Starving Children in India speech. While he sat there surrounded by the symbols of his own wealth, eating to excess while his own children choked down oats and water, he actually had the nerve to give That Speech.

I don't remember what happened after that. I do know that my parents were never invited back. And yet they never mentioned my behavior, never blamed me for the collapse of this social opportunity. From what I know of my parents, I doubt they cared.

Which brings me to the subject of oatmeal. With nothing added to it, oatmeal is as close to tasteless as any foodlike substance ever comes. But with just a little of the care that the rancher's kitchen staff failed to take, it can be very yummy without being loaded down with bad-for-you sugars and fats. Whole oats (never quick cook or instant!) are a great source of insoluble fibre, which lowers cholesterol among other benefits.

On these cold mornings, I often make oatmeal, happy in the knowledge that the rancher in my story probably died years ago from a heart attack brought on by eating too much steak.

6 cups water
3 cups old-fashioned or steel-cut oats (steel cut oats cook faster but make a mushier porridge)
1 3/4 cups raisins or other chopped dried fruit (tip: dried apricots have a low glycemic index and are very nutritious)
1/2 teaspoon salt or salt to taste
1 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups unsweetened applesauce
6 tablespoons maple syrup or molasses (omit this or use artificial sweetener if you want to cut the sugar content)
6 tablespoons of chopped nuts (I usually use walnuts)

Combine all of the above and simmer until it achieves the desired consistency. You can also make this in a rice cooker. Contrary to a widespread misconception, oats do not take a long time to cook. I put a pot of oatmeal on just before going to my office to write this. By the time I'd finished, the oatmeal was done.

For a treat, add cream or butter. But this isn't necessary. For calcium and a milky flavor, I sometimes pour on evaporated skim milk.

This recipe makes enough to over-feed 4 people. You can save the leftovers and reheat them in the microwave the next day.