Bound to: a.k.a., why a newsletter? Also, oatmeal pancakes.
Earlier this year my husband and I tucked a small desk into a corner of our bedroom. I was firmly against the addition. It’s where I’m writing from now.
In this house there are many other places I sit to write. Most often I’m at the dining table, second only to a spot by the fire in wintertime.
Lately though, when I’m really working, when I’m really thinking, it’s here.
I hate to say “I remember how blogs used to be.” But, I do. And I’m not waxing nostalgic about a golden time before SEO or, in any way, disparaging monetization and hustle and all the hard work countless talents put into their sites.
I’m referring to how the community clustered around our glowing screens used to be. It felt smaller, even if the Internet was sprawling, expansive. Maybe it was because, without social media, some conversations were localized to specific spaces—bound to the comment section below a post—that there was an illusion at least of intimacy.
I left to make a coffee a moment ago. When I opened the fridge to grab the milk, a jar of stone fruit jam* caught my attention. So, I’m back with the coffee, and a peanut butter and jam sandwich in hand.
Please understand by sandwich I mean an oatmeal pancake spread with cultured butter, followed by the aforementioned PB+ (stone fruit) J, folded. And by PB please understand it is the full-on-sweet, absolutely-industrial stuff. I make other nut butters, but I want peanut butter that grits slightly between my back teeth, which only store bought, sugar-laden Jif will do.
(I used to love Skippy. Sadly they stopped selling in Canada and the US version isn’t the same recipe. If Peter Pan was around, that would be my pick. As a kid, it was Squirrel, the one with a single nut on top. My older brother and I would fight for the nut, even though it always disappointed. Apologies. I digressed. And it’s suddenly 100 words on peanut butter.)
My point is, writing directly to you, I feel like I can tell you about peanut butter. And about the desk in the corner of the room, which is modern and leggy, and doesn’t overwhelm. How it reminds me of hotel rooms (I miss hotel rooms), and the slim-silhouetted desks placed by windows where the light is good, with graceful chairs tucked discreetly beneath. I am fond of those desks, especially when the hotel provides a postcard or two. Even if I don’t get around to writing a letter, I like the idea of it.
I like the idea of this, too. And like the idea of getting around to it again in two weeks.
YOU MIGHT WANT TO MAKE THIS
*On the topic of jam, I’ve been making a lot this summer. It has been the productivity needed when it didn’t seem like much was getting done. While it isn’t crucial, I skim the foam that forms as the fruit cooks. If you do the same, never throw it out. It a true amplification of the fruit, the volume and saturation turned way up. My sons know to look for it in the fridge the day after they see canning jars on the counter. We usually streak the loose syrup on yogurt or ice cream. The other day we had it on pancakes. While you’ll have to make jam for that stroke of delicious, at least I can give you the general recipe for the what to put it on.
OATMEAL PANCAKES (Makes about 8)
Brown 56 g | 1/4 cup butter (salted or unsalted) in a medium saucepan. Off the heat, stir in 50 g| 1/2 cup of old-fashioned (large flake) rolled oats, followed by 1 1/2 cups buttermilk. Let stand 10 minutes. This is usually when I measure everything else out.
In a large bowl, whisk together 170 g | 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (I use Flourist sifted red fife flour, which is a wholegrain but lighter than most — not an ad, I just really like it), 3 tablespoons granulated sugar, 2 teaspoons baking powder, 1/4 teaspoon baking soda, and 1 teaspoon medium-grain kosher salt. Cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, nutmeg are all contenders for an appearance here.
Stir 2 eggs and 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract into the softened oat mixture. Pour these wet ingredients into the dry, stirring only to combine.
To cook the pancakes, lightly grease a cast-iron griddle or similar over medium heat. Using 1/4 cup of batter per pancake, cook 2 minutes or so on the first side, before flipping and cooking all the way through. Repeat with remaining batter. Stack and eat with maple syrup, jam syrup, or cold and rolled with peanut butter and jam two days later, at your desk in your room.
A note. For the lightest pancakes, separate the yolks from the whites. Stir the yolks into the oats as is. Beat the whites to firm peaks and reserve. Proceed with the recipe as written, folding the whites into the batter just before using.
Other recipes to mention: The green Zhoug and The Whole-Roasted Broccoli with Herbed Yogurt, Dukkah, and Chile, plus the entire Handheld chapter from Eden Grinshpan’s new book, Eating Out Loud: Bold Middle Eastern Flavours for All Day, Every Day.
THINGS I’D TEXT YOU IF I HAD YOUR NUMBER
How We Show Up: Reclaiming Family, Friendship, and Community by Mia Birdsong was a book that made me pause and review because passages were so juicy, I could not wring it all out in one go. Written very much in this moment, of this moment.
An ode to yogurt rice by Khushbu Shah.
Chanel Miller wrote a new afterword for the paperback edition of Know my Name. TIME magazine excerpted the text, which shares her experience in coming forward and claiming her identity. Her writing is like lightning; searing and luminous. Also look out for Childhood with Chanel and Tiffany, her podcast with her sister. It is a delight. They are delights.