Banana Baked Oatmeal

The week between Christmas and New Year's has no shape. It's not a holiday and it's not regular life. It's limbo with leftovers. I've been eating pierogi for four days — reheated in butter, cold from the fridge at midnight, tucked into a Ziploc in my purse like a woman who has lost all social boundaries. Babcia Rose made enough to feed a small country, and the surplus came home with us because that's how it works: you go to Babcia Rose's and you leave with food, whether you asked for it or not. It's not generosity. It's policy.

I registered for spring classes on Wednesday. Sat at the kitchen table with Mom's laptop — mine is from 2013 and loads web pages like it's translating them from ancient Greek — and signed up for four courses. Special Education Law and Policy. Assessment and Evaluation. Curriculum Methods. Student Teaching Seminar. I looked at the schedule and felt my chest tighten and my hands shake and I registered anyway because Dr. Perkins says courage isn't the absence of fear, it's doing the thing while your hands are shaking. I think she got that from a poster, but she's not wrong.

Dad and I watched three bowl games on Thursday. I don't care about college football, but sitting next to Steve Kowalczyk on the couch while he yells at the TV is a specific kind of comfort that I didn't appreciate at eighteen and appreciate enormously at twenty-one. He falls asleep by the third quarter every time. I put a blanket on him. He pretends he wasn't sleeping. We do this dance.

New Year's Eve. Matt and his family left for Springfield on Wednesday. Kristin called from a party in Manhattan that sounded like it cost more than my tuition. Mom and Dad went to bed at ten because they're in their fifties and that's what people in their fifties do on New Year's Eve. I stayed up. I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea — Babcia Rose's method, black tea with honey and a slice of lemon — and I watched the clock on the microwave turn to midnight. 2017. A new year. The first full calendar year without Jess.

I didn't make a resolution. Resolutions are for people who think willpower is the thing that's been missing. I don't need willpower. I need to get in the car in January and drive to DeKalb and walk into a lecture hall and sit down and stay. That's not a resolution. That's a direction. I finished my tea. I washed the cup. I went to bed. 2016 is over. It took everything from me and I am still here, and tomorrow I will heat up the last of the pierogi and call it a fresh start, because fresh starts don't need champagne. They just need breakfast and the nerve to begin again.

That morning after New Year’s, I kept thinking about what I’d said to myself the night before—that a fresh start just needs breakfast and the nerve to begin again. So I made breakfast. Not pierogi this time, but something I’d been meaning to try for weeks: a banana baked oatmeal that felt warm and simple and forgiving in a way I really needed. It’s the kind of thing you mix together in ten minutes, slide into the oven, and let it take care of itself while you sit with your tea and figure out what direction looks like.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

3 ripe bananas, mashed (about 1 1/2 cups)
2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1 1/2 cups milk (dairy or unsweetened non-dairy)
2 large eggs
3 tablespoons maple syrup or honey
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon fine salt
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)
1 banana, sliced, for topping (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease an 8x8 or 9x9 inch baking dish with butter or cooking spray.
Mash the bananas. In a large bowl, mash the ripe bananas with a fork until as smooth as possible. A few small lumps are fine — they add texture.
Mix the wet ingredients. Whisk the eggs, milk, maple syrup, and vanilla into the mashed banana until fully combined.
Add the dry ingredients. Stir in the rolled oats, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt. Fold in nuts if using. Let the mixture sit for 2 minutes so the oats begin to absorb the liquid.
Pour and top. Transfer the mixture to the prepared baking dish and spread evenly. Arrange banana slices across the top if desired.
Bake. Bake uncovered for 33–37 minutes, until the center is set and the top is lightly golden. A toothpick inserted in the middle should come out clean.
Rest and serve. Let cool for 5 minutes before slicing. Serve warm, with a drizzle of honey or an extra splash of milk if you like.

Nutrition (per serving)

Banana Baked Oatmeal — The Fresh Start That Doesn’t Need Champagne