Ancient Grains for Modern Meals - Maria Speck [50]
Oats: Sweet and Sturdy
Most of us have relegated oats, a supremely nourishing grain, to breakfast. We eat sweetened little pouches of oatmeal on the go, cooked up in the microwave. Or we stir up a pot of steel-cut oats on the weekend when we are less pressed for time. Not in my kitchen anymore. I have passionately taken to eating oats, in all their different shapes and styles, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—as if to catch up on the years of missing out.
In Greece, where I spent much of my early childhood, this hearty staple is not part of the diet. But oats have long been cultivated in northern Europe because they grow well in its cool, wet climate. So when our family moved back to Germany, my father’s home country, the grain was suddenly everywhere. My schoolmates ate a breakfast bowl of rolled oats, with cold milk and sprinkled with sugar. I quickly learned to prepare warm oatmeal for breakfast, perfect for the icy winters of Bavaria, where we lived in a suburb of Munich. Friends recommended it as a remedy for mild stomachaches, praising its calming and healing properties. And my dad remembered the plain oatmeal soup of his childhood—a pauper’s meal, largely forgotten today. Not as creamy as British porridge, it is cooked with milk, sugar, and a little butter and served warm or cold.
But more than anything, I fell hard for muesli when growing up in Germany. This Swiss national food, a combination of rolled oats, dried fruit, and nuts, was first introduced in the twentieth century by Swiss physician Maximilian Bircher-Benner (see “The Origins of Muesli”). Germans treasure their bowl of muesli—as if they are the better Swiss. Order Müsli in a good coffeehouse for a late breakfast on a Sunday, being sure to arrive with an empty stomach. If the establishment is any good, you will find a hefty bowl of oats and other grain flakes in front of you, topped high with freshly cut fruit of the season, nuts, and—my first choice—a mound of softly whipped cream. You may, of course, choose yogurt instead.
But oats, with their natural sweetness and pecanlike tinge, can be so much more than nutritious breakfast fare. They have become my personal über-grain. Oats can be an enticing savory component of any meal. I have long been spellbound by whole oats, the actual grain kernels. Especially when freshly harvested, they are so supple and soft that I sometimes just chew on a few raw grains while cooking them.
Just to give you a few ideas, I have sautéed whole oats as a pilaf with onions, currants, and toasted hazelnuts, topped with a curried cream sauce, and served next to Broccolini or carrots—a match made in heaven. And I once paired them with chicken in a Mediterranean-inspired skillet sauté with bell peppers, tomatoes, and lots of fresh herbs. Or try them as a side in Warm Oat Berries with Walnuts and Gorgonzola. Admittedly, I have a very personal theory (not substantiated by any facts) why whole oats haven’t caught on with a broader public. Their correct name is, hold your breath, groats. Just try saying that out loud! I believe the term does injustice to this extraordinarily pleasing grain. So seek out whole oats more often, and please call them call oat berries.
Last but not least, oats have to be mentioned for the special qualities they lend to baked goods. Their gentle chew and slight density make them memorable in pancakes, muffins, and cookies. Classic honey oatmeal bread