We don't have a nutrition-obsessed home. Living in Greece with its luminous produce and jumping fish, generous milking goats and sheep, and honey bees, and olive trees- it takes care of itself, and we are grateful for it. I have people in my life who spend most of their lives outside of the kitchen though, and just slip in during study breaks or between making films. They are not always here for a full-course meal. They want a treat, and I want them well-fed.
Why all the "Sleek and Modern" hype for this simple, humble recipe? Aesthetically, the 70's were unfortunate culinary era. In any counter-cultural artistic/intellectual community, food was shaped first by politics, then by health- two praiseworthy benchmarks. But it stopped there- delight had no part of the agenda. Food was not cuisine; it was fuel for the revolution. Children, rebellious and righteous by nature, can embrace the political- the grape boycot, for instance, was something I completely got. The nutritional is a neutral factor- they usually are not very interested in it one way or the other. Delight though is happily not negotiable for children- they must have joy. Words like "carob" and "granola" bring this era* of the soybean casserole back. (These are not a myth- I actually ate them. In fact, once, at an early '70's potluck in Buffalo- a very politicized community- there were eleven soybean casseroles. Nothing else. Everyone has a good laugh about it.)
This is why I cannot bring myself to call these granola bars, although I am sure that is what they are. They are also wholesome, delicious and, hopefully after four decades, free of cultural baggage. It really is a good recipe- ideal for young academics, revolutionaries on the go, informal tea time, and picnics to see the fall leaves.
We will need:
150 g/ 2/3 C butter or oil
300 g/ 3 C oats
35 g/ 1/2 C wheat germ
50 g/ 1/2 C oat bran
150 g 1 C almonds, roughly chopped
50 g/ generous 1/2 C dried coconut
a large handful of cocoa puffed rice cereal, if you have it around
2/3 C / honey
50 g/ 1/4 C brown sugar
1/2 tsp. salt (flat tasting without it)
50 g/ 2/3 C (sifted) cocoa powder
some vanilla
The nuts, coconut, wheat germ, oat bran, cocoa puffed rice and cocoa powder are all optional- leave out whatever you don't want or don't have. Really you just need the oats for the recipe to work. If you do leave lots out, add some oats to make up for the missing bulk- otherwise the bars may seem too sweet. If you leave out the cocoa, add cinnamon, nutmeg, and maybe some dried fruit- whatever suits your taste.
Heat the oven to 150 C/ 300 F, and line a baking pan with non-stick paper. Ours was 25 x 28 cm- 11" x 12"
1. Warm the butter or oil in your largest skillet and add the oats, coconut, and nuts. Over medium heat and stirring carefully, let them toast for 5-6 minutes. They will turn golden but should not brown. Turn them out into a large bowl, toss with the sifted cocoa powder, and add the wheat germ and oat bran.
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| The hard, smooth surface of the almond slips around under the blade of a straight knife- a serrated bread knife grabs them, making for much easier chopping. |
2. Meanwhile, boil the honey, brown sugar, and salt together for 5 minutes. It bubbles up a lot. This is really, really hot- not something children ought to help with. Add some vanilla.
3. Pour the syrup over the dry ingredients in the bowl, stirring with a wooden spoon to make sure the syrup is evenly distributed throughout. After it cools a moment you can mix with your hands, making sure no dry ingredients are left unmoistened in the bottom of the bowl
4. Pat lightly into the pan and bake for 15-20 minutes- they get harder the longer you bake them.
5. As soon as they come out of the oven, score them into bars, then let them cool before taking them out of the pan. They are difficult to cut neatly once cool.
Whatever you call them, these are delicious. And they come from quite an era. It was an exciting time to grow up, full of compassionate, impassioned ideology. I am grateful for it, and hope to have retained the best of it. I am also, without irony, grateful for the relative aesthetic deprivation of the era- certainly it shaped my devotion to the pleasures of the kitchen. This recipe, if you like, is a little of both.
*I have to say here that my mother, Charlene, really did make some delicious things- Enchiladas with chicken, Tamale pie, Beef Stew with mushrooms and tiny green peas, Dutch babies, and most memorably of all Hamburgers on french bread with Roquefort dressing and crisp bacon whenever my father was away at a College Art Association conference (how I looked forward to them!). These were bright warm lights glowing in the grey culinary landscape defined by the era. Also, my Godmother Lynn's Arroz con Camarones and her fabulous Black Beans were anachronistically delicious, and remain among my very favorite dishes.
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