Let's think about foods that make us squirm. Liver and onions, gruel, boiled beef. For some folks, it's Jell-O or fruitcake. Up until somewhat recently, before most of us understood their true beauty and usefulness, Brussels sprouts and anchovies had worked their way onto that list as well. Often, it's the traditional preparation that becomes outdated, or it's the idea of thing (organ meat, gelatinous textures) that gets people worked up. Then, of course, there are the historical implications that really do us in. Granola, with its hippie skin that it's frantically trying to shed, is one such food.
I've spent at least 18 years trying to figure out granola, trying to connect with it, attempting to get to the heart of it. You'd think that it'd be easier, what with the fact it's merely a cereal, for crying out loud. Somehow, though, it's not. It's like perfecting scrambled eggs: so simple, yet never-endingly complex. So many factors, and so much trial and error, go into getting some very simple dishes completely perfect.
The thing I've learned about granola recently is that oats are entirely unnecessary. In fact, I think oats sort of (yes, I am about to actually say this out loud) ruin granola. Agh! Gasp! What am I saying!? I am, in fact, saying that the oat boat -- at least for me -- has sailed. But, wait. Listen. Yes! Give me oats in my oatmeal! Yes, give me oats in my cookies, cakes, bread and pancakes. Even give me oats in my granola bars. Just don't put oats in my granola. I love you, oats, but I can't be bothered.
I was given a gift of granola at the end of the summer from one of my students, which I actually set aside for about a month or so. I tend to see granola as a food I don't love, even though I've had some amazing granola in my day. It's just that I've had so much terrible granola: granola with tough bits of dried fruit that break my teeth off, granola that is undercooked or overcooked, granola that tastes like absolutely nothing, granola that is cloyingly sweet, granola that should actually be called muesli, granola that is comprised of nothing but oats, granola that has odd things in it that don't belong there. I am wounded, you see.
The gift was in a beautiful jar, though, and it looked to contain all sorts of things I love: almonds and coconut and other gems. And yet I didn't open it. Until, one day, when I did, just to sniff it a bit. And that is that day everything changed. That is the day I started re-loving granola. That day stacks up right next to the day I realized anchovies were one of the best-kept secrets of incredible cooking, or the day I realized that Brussels sprouts could be, if treated properly, turned into absolute gold. The smell did it for me. I poked at it, tasted a bit (still with extreme trepidation) and, then, sold. SOLD. I was in. All in.
The contents of the jar disappeared within a few days, and I was immediately clamoring for more. I'd stare at the empty jar and feel sadness that confused me. I was pining for granola, and it wasn't the type of granola-feeling I was used to having. In my granola-deprived stupor, I wrote to the kind mother who had gifted it to me. Must. Have. Recipe, I frenetically typed, and then finished the email, trying to sound clear-headed and civilized, but clearly coming from a state of horrid deprivation. I was quite close to driving to the grocery store and camping out in the parking lot until I received the recipe from her, all so I could be closer to cooking up this crack for myself.
The recipe came back soon, and I scanned through it, calculating quantities and flavors and anticipating the process. I knew there would not be oats in the recipe, and I had prepared myself. The whole thing was, actually, endearingly simple, which sort of surprised me. There really isn't anything super funky in this granola. It's just simple ingredients: no granulated sugar, no actual oats, no weird fruit.
The nuts and seeds are all raw, which is key. Nuts or seeds that have already been toasted or processed in any way have either had oils added to them or have already produced oils that will, when baked, oxidize and burn. We don't want this. We want raw, and we want simple. We want to look up granola on the Internet, hope that it's not married yet, and set a date to reconnect. We want to meet granola again after a decade-long hiatus and notice how beautiful it looks, how impeccably groomed it is, how well-dressed and well-mannered it is. We want to rediscover this creature that we thought had quite possibly ended up in the loony bin or prison. We want to realize that this, this is what we've been waiting for. No obnoxious quirks, no disgusting habits, and certainly no unnecessary ingredients. Just the pure love we've been hunting for. We want to find happiness. We want to find this granola.
The Good Granola
Thanks to Denise for this recipe and the gift that started it all.
2 C sliced or chopped raw almonds
2 C large unsweetened coconut flakes
1 C raw sunflower seeds
1/2 C raw pumpkin seeds
1/2 C chopped raw pecans
1/3 C maple syrup
1/3 C coconut oil
2 t vanilla
2 t cinnamon
1/2 t salt
Preheat oven to 300 degrees F. Combine first 5 ingredients in the biggest bowl you have. Combine the remaining 5 ingredients in a saucepan over medium heat. Whisk constantly until coconut oil is melted and everything is combined. Mix the wet in with the dry and toss to coat.
Spread out mixture in an even layer on a parchment-lined baking pan and bake 15 minutes. Stir, shuffle, and toss the granola on the pan. Put back in the oven for another 15 minutes, then stir again. Return to the oven for another 15 minutes, watching carefully. You'll want it very golden and toasted, but not burned. Cool in the pan. When completely cool, store in an airtight container. Makes roughly 6 cups, which should last you about one hour.
You can certainly add dried fruit or freeze-dried fruit once the granola has baked. The original gift-batch I received had dried blueberries in it, which was lovely. I tend to just add extra bits and things to each serving, rather than committing to a fruit-theme for the entire batch.
Serve any way you'd like! I love it with coconut milk, but I've also eaten it with just a giant spoonful of almond butter. It's found its way onto salads and soups lately, too. There are very few places I wouldn't put this granola, in fact. It's just that good.
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