By July and the tomatoes are setting. Green fruits on every plant, dozens of them, the promise of August held in suspension. I go out every morning and look at them with the particular anticipation of someone who has been waiting since March for this specific thing. The first ripe tomato of summer is an event in this household. Always has been. Helen used to slice it with nothing but good salt and eat it standing at the counter, still warm from the garden. I intend to do the same.
I made gazpacho this week from the first of the cucumbers and some farmers market tomatoes — I'm not patient enough to wait for my own, not for a July gazpacho — and ate it cold on the porch in the heat, which was considerable. Vermont gets hot in July in a way that always surprises people from away. They think of us as perpetually winter but July can be brutal. The gazpacho was exactly right for the conditions.
My sister Carol drove up from Burlington on Thursday — the first time I've had a visitor since March. We sat outside at a considerable distance and she brought a bottle of wine and we talked for three hours. She looks well. She's been in her own isolation, her own cooking experiments, her own particular arrangement with a world that's gone sideways. We talked about our parents, about Helen, about what the farm looks like without Helen in it. It was a conversation I didn't know I needed.
Carol said: the farm looks the same. I said: it is the same. She said: no, you know what I mean. I said: yes, I know what you mean. We left it at that. Some things don't need elaborating.
The gazpacho got me thinking about all the ways summer asks you to stop applying heat to things — to just let the cold do the work. Carol’s visit reminded me that the simplest rituals carry the most weight right now: eating something good, eating it slowly, not making it harder than it has to be. This cool oatmeal has become my mornings’ answer to the same logic as the gazpacho — put it together the night before, sleep on it, wake up and eat something that’s already done for you, cold and ready at the back of the refrigerator, while the tomatoes keep setting on the vine.
Cool Summertime Oatmeal
Prep Time: 10 minutes + overnight chilling | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 8 hours | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
- 1 cup whole milk (or unsweetened oat milk)
- 1/2 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
- 1 tablespoon honey or pure maple syrup
- 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- Pinch of fine sea salt
- 1/2 cup fresh berries or sliced stone fruit, for serving
- 2 tablespoons chopped toasted nuts or seeds, optional
Instructions
- Combine. In a medium bowl or two individual jars, stir together the oats, milk, yogurt, honey, vanilla, cinnamon, and salt until evenly combined.
- Chill. Cover tightly and refrigerate for at least 6 hours, or overnight. The oats will absorb the liquid and become thick and creamy.
- Check consistency. In the morning, give it a stir. If it’s thicker than you’d like, loosen with a splash of cold milk.
- Top and serve. Spoon into bowls or eat straight from the jar. Top with fresh berries or fruit and nuts if using. Serve cold.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 285 | Protein: 11g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 45g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 110mg