to want and to knead | cardamom-cranberry spelt wreath

There is a strange familiarity about the whole ritual. It usually involves climbing into some loft or burrowing through the shed to some degree to find the Christmas tree, that we swear to replace every year. The decorations are like meeting characters from an old book you haven't read for a long time - you remember all their quirks, where you were when you first noticed them. Someone plays Christmas music, the dogs sniff in the boxes and bash the shaky tree with their tails.

A couple of years ago my dad passed the light-stringing-up altar to me. Nothing official about it, but he was travelling for longer and longer during the holidays and I was, perhaps inappropriately, deemed the most competent in this field. The lights still shine and twinkle in the evening, but I've never managed to curl them evenly round the tree like dad has, the lights themselves are so old that a few have gone out, but no one's really had the heart to buy a new set. We've been using the same decorations for as long as I can remember, the little round baubles and the intricate figurines my dad used as a kid. We are not so much of a family for tradition. We travel too much, the family as a whole is too spread out. And when I asked my parents, when I was young and these things mattered to me, they asked me what Christmas was really about. Did it have to be gifts around a tree, a big dinner, celebrated on the 25th? Or was it about the principle - the gathering with people you love, sharing food that you've made with love, giving, more than just material gifts?

It makes me wonder. This season of craziness... the crazy is everywhere. The pressure on mothers to cook a perfect turkey, to choose the best gifts for their children. The pressure on dads to put up the best outdoor lights, to earn the money to finance it all in the first place. Pressure on kids to stay cool throughout the affair, to get the best most expensive presents. Pressure on the dog to not steal the turkey from the table, dammit, and not to bark when an army of strangers rings the doorbell. Pressure on everyone to keep a good face, to laugh with family members you don't really know.

I go back to bread. We have no great expectations of the holiday, nothing to go back on, I doubt I'll make this wreath next year as a Christmas tradition. I started making my own bread some time ago, but that was after a long break from the habit. Somehow my hands remembered it, the smell of the yeast was familiar, my hands could fold and knead the dough without a second thought. It gave me something, some quiet zen, two minutes to think amid my crazy; travel prep and essays.

It's not that I don't have warm memories of Christmas, or that I have a problem with traditional holidays, I think it's great to have something to look back on. Childhood Christmas for me was lots of light, more laughs, some fun gifts that I'd play with the whole year. This year will be similar. We'll celebrate after the India trip, on January 10th. We will still have the lights, and still have the spirit.

I understand that lots of people are scared of working with yeast but I promise that, like the aforementioned holiday, it's also overcomplicated by most people! Just make sure it's really puffy after proofing time, otherwise the yeast is dead and it will also kill the recipe. Also, the temperature of the water is important - I found a sneaky method to do this, see the recipe notes if that will help you. As for the swirly wreath pattern - I tried to get photos, but they weren't great so I will direct you to this site I trawled the internet for, which quite clearly shows how to get that pretty pattern going.The bread is gently sweet, a nice contrast to the sharp berries and fragrant cardamom - it's more the kind of bread for eating chunks plain, rather than slicing and slathering with jam. The best kind of bread, I'd say. It's kind of cozy but light, which is how Christmas should be. Whether it's the traditional kind on the 25th, or something a bit unconventional like ours, wishing you the brightest, warmest holidays with people + pets you love. xx

UPDATE 2022:
I initially hosted my blog on Wordpress and when I moved over to a new platform some recipes didn’t display correctly. I’m working on finding this recipe again :)

nothing in return | orange & cranberry (holiday) granola

I wasn't particularly planning on writing to you, you were just rolling along being yourself, I'd just written to your sister and I didn't want to bore everyone. But then you hurt your claw (that was partly my fault for not trimming the damn thing. For that, I'm sorry. Promise.) and I changed my mind, but that's not the only reason why. I've been thinking about you since we put up the Christmas tree .

You came, little tail wagging. Sticking that velvety muzzle into all the boxes, sneezing in the glitter and pine needles. You look at life through fresh eyes, don't you? You're not like your sister, not like Prune who is the cynic, she knows what she wants. You're like that little amber bauble in the box of decorations. There are lots of similar ones, many are bigger, maybe more shiny, maybe a perfect sphere. You'd be slightly dusty, maybe chipped, slightly forgotten. But then I'd pull you out and dust you off and you shine. There's no face that I want to grab and cuddle more than yours. It may not be an elegant face, your paws may be too big for your body, you may bark too much but the real problem is that you have too much to give. You expect nothing from anyone, you're surprised when we talk to you, when we call Suzi over just for a cuddle. You want to give it all to us- joy, love, whatever, expecting nothing in return.

In some ways I think I see myself in you, Prune too, but sometimes with you it's so obvious I have to laugh. There was that day we went to the vet's, we'd lined up on the ramp, the receptionist came to open up. And there's Prune, all tail wags, friendly licks, instantly loved, lots of hugs, a roomful of new friends. And you? You stand in the background, alone, and you even bark. It takes a long time for people to realise how sweet you are - I'm nowhere near as sweet as you, but I'd be the one waiting at the back (I don't bark yet, but people don't ever take to me straight away, so I might as well). It takes you a long time to trust people, you'll do with your own company, but when you do start to trust, you'd do anything for them, you show them in your own suzi-like ways. You have so much love to give. The way you always bark at strange men, the way you climb onto my bed sometimes, how you curl your whole body around our legs and sleep like a little bean.

And before this season of giving, you've taught me so much about true generosity, patience. How do you manage, even if you're worried and scared, even though you've been hurt, to make us all smile and love us so much? I've learnt to give you time to warm to us, time to calm down when you're nervous, and it's been worth it, for the tic tac of your paws running to meet me when I'm up in the morning, for your snuggles and how you rest your whole face on my lap. So to you, the little forgotten bauble, just know for me you're the shiniest of the bunch. You can be the angel on the highest branch. Thank you, suzi, for teaching me that in our own way, we all know how to give. And thanks for giving me something every day, all year. You could teach Santa a thing or two.

I think I mentioned giving in my last post? To me the nicest things to gift are homemade, and I this granola would fit the role perfectly. It's pretty adaptable and looks cute + rustic in a glass jar with a little pine sprig, and granola keeps forever too - so make the whole batch and gift some. In case you were wondering what this had to do with Suzi, the answer is not much, but she simply doesn't ask for anything or expect anything - and that's just so rare. I expect and ask for my Christmas granola to be really tasty, warmly spiced and distinctly festive, and this recipe ticks all those boxes. The orange juice & zest in the syrup with a hint of molasses and ginger puts a Christmas candle in your breakfast (or snack)(I've never eaten a candle before though) + cranberries & oranges are made for each other. At other times of year, I switch the molasses for honey and tone down the ginger, which makes for a really bright and refreshing taste, so this recipe is a keeper for the whole year. In the notes under the recipe I give some switches for making the granola gluten-free and pantry friendly, so I really hope you try this one out. Try to make some time in the craziness for homemade gifts and cherishing the less-shiny baubles, whatever form they come in. The cheer is upon us. Happy holidays xo

---

ORANGE & CRANBERRY (HOLIDAY) GRANOLA

//gluten free option + vegan // makes about 8 cups/ 2l

1 1/3 cup (320ml) unsweetened orange juice, freshly squeezed or pure fresh bottled juice
1 tablespoon (15ml) unsulphured molasses*
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon (40ml) extra virgin coconut oil (room temperature)
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
finely grated zest of one orange, optional

2 cups (200g) rolled oats
2 cups (200g) rolled rye/rye flakes**
2/3 cup (94g) pumpkin seeds
2/3cup (86g) sunflower seeds
1/2 cup (50g) walnuts, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup (75g) almonds, coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons  (20g) flax seeds

2/3 cup (100g) unsweetened dried cranberries

---

preheat the oven to 180’C or 350’F. line a large, rimmed baking tray with parchment paper.

start by making the ‘syrup’. in a medium saucepan over high heat, add the orange juice and molasses. you’re essentially making a reduction, so let the mix boil, uncovered, till reduced by about half: you want about 2/3 cup (160ml) liquid. after about 10 minutes of scarily rapid boiling, steam etc, carefully (this is real hot stuff) pour into a measure and check. if there’s too much liquid, boil longer and check, if there is too little, don’t panic. you can top it up with extra juice.
while the liquid is still hot, pour it back into the pan, stir in the coconut oil till it melts through; add the spices and vanilla and set aside to cool/infuse.

while the oj mix is cooling, find a very large bowl. add all the dry ingredients to the bowl and stir them to combine (I use my hands, less messy)
retrieve the cooled wet mix. drizzle it over the oat-nut mix and stir well, so the grains are just moistened without being wet. toss it well so that the bottom of the bowl doesn’t stay dry.

dump the bowl out onto the prepared baking tray – there will be a lot, use a wooden spoon/spatula to spread it evenly over the tray. put the tray in the oven for 10 minutes.
after 10 minutes, open the oven and stir the granola around on the tray, bringing the granola from the edges into the middle and the middle towards the edges – this is important or the edges will burn/brown much faster. rotate the tray.
bake for around 40 minutes, stirring/moving edges and rotating every 10-15 minutes. This granola is best with the grains nice and separate, not the clumpy kind; the frequent stirring ensures this.
40 minutes leaves the grains and nuts deeply toasted, which I love, but if this is not your thing, you can check on it after about 35 minutes.

Allow the granola to cool in the pan, then toss through the cranberries. Once fully cooled, use the parchment paper as a funnel (do this over a baking tray, it helps) to pour the ‘nola into a sealable glass jar, where it will keep a month or so. You can of course also put into small jars, paper bags etc. for gifting.

notes

*health foodies actually swear by blackstrap molasses, but it’s very sharp/spicy – I just used a natural variety that adds huge depth without the sharpness or being overly sweet, but remember, this and the juice are the only real sweeteners here. Your call. Also, if you’re in Belgium or Holland, I think appelstroop (apple syrup – can you find it elsewhere?) would work really well.
** to make this gluten free, switch the rolled rye for more gf certified rolled oats. I use it here because I like the contrast in color and shape to the very pale rolled oats, so you could try another gf rolled grain like rolled millet or quinoa. It adds nice variety

As a general note, you can keep things in the same volume and use what you have – 1 cup (around 150-160g) total of nuts, for example. And as I said, for something less in-your-face holiday, I switch molasses for honey and sometimes the cranberries for unsulphured dried apricots, blueberries or raisins. Granola just lives to make your breakfasts easy.

ps. This blog has been in existence almost 2 months now... I just want to say a huge thank you to the small handful of loyal readers who visit my little corner of the net often. Every comment, email, just you reading means the world to me. As a heads up, I might be changing the URL of the blog because after 'settling in' to the blog, I'm not sure how fitting it is. I will send an email to my subscribers when a change happens and I'll try to set up some kind of redirect. Thanks for all your support, if I could bake you all a cookie, I would.

suzi, the littlest one

---

more holiday breakfasts

spiced apple pancakes

cardamom-cranberry spelt wreath

blackberry & rosemary rolls

headlights and tail lights | mixed berry baked oatmeal

It's been thanksgiving weekend in the States. I read a lot of American food blogs/sites and I think the cranberry population's been pretty much decimated, pumpkins too and I guess turkeys as well (I only really read veggie blogs... but they're the tradition I know). Anyway, looks like a fun holiday, getting together for a meal with friends and family when it's vague November and Christmas seems just slightly out of reach.

I know that some people find it superficial, giving thanks on one arbitrary day of the year. That you should be thankful every day, but sometimes it's hard and you just need a reminder. It's four o'clock, you're sitting in class, watching the light fade away, the night moves in and you wonder where the day went. It's chilly out, the sun won't be up till 8am, you've got a hundred tedious jobs to do tonight, there are puddles by the side of the road, cars plough through, you get an icy blast of scummy water. I don't know if it's so much thankful as... I've learnt to see the beauty in things, I suppose. I'm not saying that there's always beauty in life: sometimes I feel like I'm walking through damp sand, one step forwards, two steps back, often my sky nothing but a blanket of dark clouds. Keeping my head up is not always natural, but I've taught myself how. My room is small, the smallest in the house, and it's ironic since I think I have the most stuff. A whole shelf of cookbooks, camera equipment, an ice cream maker (yes, in my room).But it's from my room that I can lie in bed under the big window, watch the stars all night in winter, I'm sure I slept under a constellation. Summer mornings, I open the window, listen to the birds, watch a little deer stroll across the lawn, wave to a warbler sitting on the roof of the car. The room is small enough that the fairylights strung to the bed frame light the whole thing up, that if the sun is coming in and I close the curtains, the whole room turns into a little cocoon of white.

I moan about the farmers who till the fields and the big rubber tyres of their tractors drag mud out onto the road. The bottom of my jeans are never clean anymore and after every walk I crawl around on hands and knees, scrubbing the dogs' paws. But the fields are what the make the place. We watch deer jumping on sunset walks, the same little guy, we called him Stanley. There was once a group of four stags so big we thought they were horses, running in the long grass. Sometimes I stand in the kitchen, the kitchen that I curse for the gray tiles and strangely big windows, and I watch a pheasant sitting on the back fence. The fence that's old with peeling paint, but it's heavy with ivy, little birds have built a nest in the bird house by that fence. I'll long for a dishwasher and stand at the sink, a little robin will sit at the bird feeder, I'll meet his eye. In the garden that's a muddy swamp from all the rain, littered with leaves that cover the lawn, I've watched a baby pigeon fight his way back to life after his nest fell in a storm, bunnies eat fallen apples and blackbirds sing from the roof of the shed that I deemed 'such an eyesore'.

When does a place lose it's beauty? I realize that maybe it looks like I'm just really ungrateful. Complacent, whatever you want to call it: I live in some countryside idyll and I moan. I don't want it to come across like that - not like those people who'll post a photo on instagram, them in their expensive gym clothes with their great abs at some trendy gym in LA and write about how 'blessed' they are to be off to yoga at 9am on a Tuesday morning. Or the people who post overhead shots of brunches at cute indie cafes in Hoxton somewhere, predictably with a beautifully plated avocado toast (on sourdough rye bread, naturally. with an almond milk latte) and also write about how 'blessed' they are to have the gift of travel, or something. Nothing like that for me. My jeans are muddy, my room is still small, it rains, I get splashed, I live a normal life. I think I cried a couple of times in the past week, I fought with my sister over something irrelevant, I found the jar of granola was empty (yes, this is a disaster), I missed a huge deal on a camera lens, I stayed up way too late reading a cookbook and was so tired I was shaky the next day. There are times I laugh with my family, times when I'd rather sit in my room, door closed. I've learnt and I've set out very intentionally to try and see the little beautiful things a bit more, since the sun is always shining somewhere above the clouds.

I drive home in the night, I like the bouncing flashes of the headlights and tail lights, the dark and the road signs make me think of car trips, adventure. It's cold but the heating is on, sometimes it kind of smells of musty, but that's ok since it reminds of when we first bought this house and it was all new and exciting. Tractors run me off the road but I just sigh and take a minute to pat the doggies' heads, see that they're ok. There are days that I forget to do any of this, that I just plough on, autopilot, blinkers, just keeping my head above the sand. But then I'm reminded and I see the sun for a bit, no doubt night always draws in, but I take a step back. Whether you need a day to remind of you of the light, or it's just something you can do, either way, go you. Plants grow towards the light for a reason, and sometimes, you've got to make the clouds part yourself. If you celebrated, hope you had a good Thanksgiving. Either way, hope there's a li'l bit of light in your next week.

a sure-fire way to make your own brightness? A good breakfast. Therefore, I present you baked oatmeal. This ingenious idea is not my own, lots of blogs have similar renditions which all come from the famous baked oatmeal in Heidi Swanson's Super Natural Every Day. But anyway, it's seriously so good. Berries, because I thought we could all do with a bit of a vitamin C and an antioxidant boost at this dreary time of year and also because I don't want to bore you with more apple and um, it's in the name. Also I'm going to go and upset a few people and mention that c word Christmas. Yes this could come in handy over that crazy festive season we have in store for us - it's great for family brunches or something since its gluten free and vegan (which is where it differs from the original recipe) and easily feeds 9-12 people. It keeps well for 5 days in the fridge, so you can make it ahead or freeze extras for once you've cooked yourself out. And serve it with whatever you like, too. I hope you try this, even oatmeal haters, this is more like a very lightly sweetened crumble than anything porridge-y. Warm or cold, with a group or on a weekday, it's a keeper.

MIXED BERRY BAKED OATMEAL

// gluten free + vegan (dairy free) // serves 9 or 12 less hungry people

A wholesome gluten free and vegan breakfast recipe that keeps well and is fun to share. It's lightly sweetened with maple and has a lovely crunch from toasted oats and almonds. Swap in any fruits, berries or nuts you have
 

2 cups / 200g rolled oats, certified gluten free if necessary
1/2 cup / 75g almonds, roughly chopped
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 2/3 cups milk of choice / 400ml (I used almond milk, any plant or regular would work) – room temperature/warm*
1/3 cup / 80ml pure maple syrup
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon melted coconut oil
2 1/2 cups (400g) berries**
// for serving: milk or yogurt of choice, extra maple, more fruit or other goodies

preheat your oven to 190’C or 375’F and grease an 8x8inch square pan well with coconut oil.

in a medium bowl, combine the oats, cinnamon, baking powder, salt and half the chopped almonds. Set aside.

in a liquid measuring jug or large bowl, combine the milk, oil, vanilla and maple syrup, whisk till well combined.

add the berries to the bottom of the pan, then evenly scatter the oat mix over.

drizzle the wet mix evenly over the oats, it should look moist. Tap the pan on the counter so that the liquid spreads through the batter, then sprinkle the remaining chopped almonds over.

bake for 37-40 minutes, till the oats are set and the top is lightly golden. If you know for sure you’re freezing/reheating, it may be a good idea to undertake it slightly.

allow to cool completely and then slice for clean squares. Serve however you like – with extra milk, yogurt, something sweet or more fruit for garnish.

notes

*the milk shouldn’t be cold because otherwise the coconut oil will solidify. What I usually do is put the oil and milk from the fridge into a glass measuring cup and heat them together in the microwave, but otherwise just leave the measured milk out for a bit and you’ll be fine
** I used a cup of blackberries and 1/2 a cup raspberries, both were frozen. If you can find fresh (in November? Where do you live?) you can of course use them and any combination of berries would work, blueberries or strawberries would be amazing. Or even apples I think would be really nice, you can’t really go wrong here. 
This will keep around 4 days covered in the fridge, you can serve it cold or reheat it with/without milk in the microwave or over the stove. To freeze, I portion it out into freezer bags and then just reheat in the microwave for longer, or let it thaw at room temperature and eat it with yogurt. Still tastes really good and is so handy to have around.