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Oatmeal—An Ode
Plants & Gardens News Volume 19, Number 4 | Spring 2004
by Michael Barrish
I like oatmeal. It's yummy and filling and easy to make. By "easy" I mean both simple and fast. I'm a crazy person and I live in New York and I don't have a lot of time to spend making breakfast.
Despite my fondness for oatmeal, borne of years of near daily consumption, I haven't tried many cooking methods or oat variations. I did try Irish oatmeal once, but didn't like it, for forgotten reasons. Was it too chewy? Did it take too long to make? I don't remember.
I do recall a metal container with the same kind of lid that's used for paint cans, the kind you have to wedge out with a metal implement. This lid seemed more serious and substantial than a regular plastic lid, and for that reason impressed me. Also, the can looked like something I might have found in my grandparents' pantry, and this made me think, perhaps romantically, of heart-healthy, old-world goodness.
Nonetheless, I wasn't a fan of the oats (which isn't saying that you shouldn't be). I checked online and discovered that Irish oatmeal is made from steel-cut oats. These oats—also known as Scotch oats, pinhead oats, coarse-cut oats, and porridge oats—are oat groats (whole, de-hulled oat kernels) chopped into small pieces. Rolled oats, by comparison, are steamed, rolled, and flaked for faster cooking. I use organic rolled oats when making oatmeal.
Additional processing of the groat—each step of which reduces its nutritional value—produces quick oats, which are quicker than rolled, and instant oats, which are more instant than quick. I'm frankly afraid of instant oats, which I group, rightly or wrongly, with other instant products and services, many of which I learn about via spam solicitations. More important, instant oats taste bad, or rather, lack a discernable taste, which to me seems far scarier. Don't ever eat them.
Over the years, I've developed my own personal oatmeal-cooking method. The method is closely integrated with my morning routine and, as such, will likely prove useless to others. Nonetheless, here's the deal: I combine 2/3 cup of organic rolled oats with 1 1/3 cups of water, add a pinch of salt, and set this to boil in a tightly covered pot. Next, I head to the bathroom, where I floss and brush my teeth. These seemingly unrelated tasks are crucial to the process, as oatmeal takes about the same amount of time to boil as I take to floss and brush my teeth.
When I return to the kitchen, I watch as the oatmeal reaches a boil (my pot has a glass lid, which allows me to time this precisely). Once that boil starts rolling, I turn off the burner and leave the oatmeal to cook in its own heat, covered. Then I return to the bathroom for a shower. When I emerge, the oatmeal is just the way I like it—hot but not scalding, congealed but not sticky.
I've heard tell of many elaborate toppings for oatmeal, some of which strike me as attempts to bury the food, not enhance it. Extreme examples include peanut butter and fruit spread, caramel and chopped pecans, and Nutella (seriously).
Me, I like simplicity. Fruit is always nice, whether fresh or dried, as are sliced nuts. I've also been known to add a splash of soymilk or a sprinkle of cinnamon. But more often than not, I eat my oatmeal straight up, with just a touch of honey or a smattering of raisins. Less is more in my oatmeal paradise.
Oatmeal, by all accounts, is good stuff. Studies show that it reduces cholesterol and the risk of heart attacks. It's also a good source of calcium, fiber, iron, and other vitamins and minerals. I've heard, too, that it makes an excellent mild exfoliant.
Oatmeal has also left its mark on popular culture. There's that forbidding European folktale about a magic cooking pot that boils over and floods a little village up to the rooftops with porridge. Then there's the '80s movie UHF, which starred "Weird" Al Yankovic as the host of a game show in which kids crawl through oatmeal for prizes.
Speaking of weird, I'm aware that some people don't like oatmeal. Could it be that they've only tried instant? As sad as this would be, I prefer it to the thought that they once had the good stuff and didn't like it. But if so, so be it. There's no need for everyone to enjoy the same things I enjoy, even when that thing is oatmeal, the best and yummiest breakfast ever.
Michael Barrish is a freelance web developer, writer, and oatmeal eater.