Sweet and Salty Energy Bites

Bernice. My sister Bernice. I need to tell you about Bernice, baby, because the phone rang this week and the news was not what I wanted.

Bernice Williams-Taylor is seventy-four years old. She is the third of the six Williams children — older than me by three years, the bossy one, the one who told me how to dress and how to talk and how to stand up straight, and who I argued with about everything and loved with the kind of love that only sisters understand: fierce, annoyed, permanent.

Bernice had a stroke. Tuesday afternoon, in her kitchen in Augusta, reaching for a jar of peaches on the top shelf. The jar fell. Bernice fell. Her husband Harold found her on the floor twenty minutes later. She's alive. She's in the hospital. The doctors say the stroke was significant — right side affected, speech impaired. They don't know yet what the recovery will look like.

I drove to Augusta on Wednesday. Three hours. Denise drove because my hands were shaking and my knees were bad and my heart was in my throat. I walked into that hospital room and I saw my sister — my big sister, the one who used to braid my hair and steal my dolls and tell me I was too loud — lying in a bed with tubes and monitors and a face that was half Bernice and half something else, something slack and frightened.

I held her hand. Her left hand, the good one. I said, "Bernice, it's Dot." Her eyes moved to me. She tried to speak. What came out was a sound, not a word. But her hand squeezed mine. Weak. But there. She's there, baby. She's still there.

I didn't cook this week. I brought food from home — containers from the freezer, the army of meals I keep for emergencies. I left them at Harold's house. He looked lost in the way that husbands look lost when their wives are in the hospital — a man standing in a kitchen he doesn't know how to use, surrounded by food he doesn't know how to make. I said, "Harold, eat what I brought. I'll bring more." He nodded. He didn't speak. Loss makes people quiet. I know that better than anyone.

Of the six Williams children, only four remain. James Jr. is gone. Willie James drowned when we were children. Now Bernice is fighting. I am sixty-seven and I am running out of siblings, baby. The table where we all sat is getting smaller. The voices are getting fewer. And I am standing at the stove making food for the ones who are left, because that's all I know how to do when the world takes another piece.

Now go on and feed somebody.

When I packed those freezer containers for Harold, the energy bites went in first. They’re always the first thing I grab, baby, because a man who doesn’t know how to turn on his own stove can still open a container and eat something that will hold him together until morning. No reheating, no fussing, no thinking — just reach in and eat. I keep a batch in my freezer at all times, because life has taught me that the phone rings when you least expect it, and love has to be ready before the emergency comes.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes + 30 minutes chill time | Servings: 24 bites

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
1/3 cup honey
1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1/3 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
1/4 cup ground flaxseed
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt
2 tablespoons salted pretzels, crushed

Instructions

Mix the base. In a large bowl, stir together oats, peanut butter, honey, and vanilla extract until well combined.
Add the extras. Fold in chocolate chips, shredded coconut, ground flaxseed, and crushed pretzels until evenly distributed.
Season. Sprinkle in the coarse sea salt and stir once more.
Shape. Using a tablespoon or small cookie scoop, roll the mixture into 24 balls, about 1 inch each. If the mixture is too sticky, dampen your hands slightly with water.
Chill. Place the bites on a parchment-lined baking sheet and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes until firm.
Store. Transfer to an airtight container. Keep in the refrigerator for up to one week, or freeze in a single layer on a baking sheet, then transfer to a freezer-safe bag for up to three months. They thaw in about ten minutes on the counter.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sweet and Salty Energy Bites — The Army in the Freezer