To ease our entry into the white winter world of snow and ice we began a new tradition of starting the day with steaming bowls of oatmeal.

Charles is the oatmeal chef. He wakes before I do, retrieves the newspaper, shovels the walk, sprinkles sawdust on the icy patches and refreshes the fire in the woodstove. When I appear from our bedroom, he asks “Is this an oatmeal morning?”

“Sure,” I mumble, (I’m not very talkative until I’ve had a cup of tea), and he sets to work. Here’s how he does it:

Oatmeal by Charles

He uses a small glass tumbler from Tunisia that holds about four ounces of water as a measure for both rolled oats and water to make two modest servings. He puts one glassful of non-instant rolled oats, a pinch of salt and two glassfuls of water into a one quart Pyrex measuring cup. He zaps the oatmeal on high for three minutes and then lets it sit for two minutes before serving it. He tops my bowl of oatmeal with a teaspoon of brown sugar and a large glug of whole milk, zaps it for thirty seconds to heat the milk and serves it with my favorite thin antique silver spoon from my Nana. Charles tops his bowl of oatmeal with a spoonful of brown sugar and a generous glug of soymilk. Charles reads the weather forecast in the paper and I check my email and the weather in Sicily as we make our way into the new day.

Oatmeal called porridge or brose appeared frequently in a series of books set in Scotland in late 1700’s that I read when we were in Sicily last year. Oats are better suited than wheat as a crop in

Scotland because of the short wet growing season. Brose is actually uncooked oatmeal that has been heated in a dry pot to toast it and impart a nutty fragrance. It is served topped with butter or cream. Unlike the rolled oats that Charles microwaves in minutes, the porridge made in the 18^th century was made from oats that were steamed and ground and then cooked for at least ten minutes.

I offered to help with food for a breakfast meeting last Saturday and decided that rather than making modern, rolled oats I would make a pot of oatmeal with steel cut oats from the coop. Steel cut oats are the whole oat grains that have been cut into two or three pieces after the outer hard husks have been removed. Since the meeting began at eight and I didn’t want to be cooking and stirring at seven I used a slow cooker and the oats cooked for ten hours while I slept. Here’s how I did it: … read more

The first time I tasted cardamom, it was the spice that scented sweet breakfast bread that a friend had baked. I was twenty-four, living in a fourth floor walk-up apartment on Connecticut Avenue in Washington, D.C. My nearest neighbor and close friend Char and her husband, Rob, lived  next-door. Our kitchens opened onto the same fire escape.

Char had a way with spices. She brought whole cloves, allspice and cardamom across the fire escape and into my kitchen. When my apartment was filled with the smell of burned popcorn, Char suggested that I simmer a tablespoon of mixed pickling spices in a saucepan of water to get rid of the smell. She served hot tea with lime slices that were dotted with whole cloves. Slow cooked, steel cut oats topped with heavy cream and brown sugar tasted even better when she sprinkled freshly ground allspice on top. I have whole cloves, allspice and mixed pickling spices in my pantry and use them all, but it was the scent and flavor of cardamom that made me remember Char when I made a batch of cardamom buns last weekend. Here’s how I did it: … read more

Whether you make them sweet or savory, pronounce it skan or skoon, or call them bannock, tattie or girdle scone as they do in Scotland, farl as they do in Ireland, or puftaloons as some Australians do, they are delightful at breakfast, tea time and dinner whether you are traveling or snuggled up at home.

When I wanted quick, savory scones to serve with dinner last weekend, I made lemonade scones using a recipe I got from my friend Robyn. She is from Oz, (that’s what she calls Australia), and the lemonade called for in this recipe is actually fizzy lemonade. Bitter lemon soda works perfectly. Here’s how I did it: … read more

A couple of weeks ago, I was missing my son Matthew who lives in Brighton, England.

I made a batch of English scones, whipped some cream, dished out the strawberry jam and nibbled on them while we chatted on the phone. Here’s how I did it: … read more

I have never been a fan of the traditional American breakfast. Although I enjoy frying, poaching and scrambling eggs for others, I don’t like eating them. One of my most memorable breakfasts was served in the dining car of a Russian train as we headed from Mongolia to Siberia. When I saw that everyone around me was eating crispy fried eggs, served in shallow metal bowls, I asked the waiter if there was anything, other than eggs, that I might have for breakfast. The waiter shrugged and said that there was only chicken soup. Chicken soup sounded great to me, and since I was in Russia, I asked if there might be some caviar as well. He nodded and returned with my soup and a plate with a lump of caviar and a slice of bread. This unconventional breakfast was the best meal I had in Russia. If I can’t have caviar and chicken soup for breakfast, a minimal meal of a sweet pastry and a cup of tea and gets my day started with a smile.

With a supply of scones in the freezer, pulling breakfast together is as quick as brewing a pot of tea and zapping a scone in the microwave. This week, I added fresh cranberries and pecans to the batter. These scones are sweet, have the texture of cake and are the American cousins of English scones that are often dotted with currants and served with clotted cream and jam. Here’s how I did it:

… read more