By August and the question that has been hovering since March finally lands with full weight: will the school reopen? The answer, as of this week, is: partially. Hybrid. Some students in person, some on Zoom, rotating schedules, masks mandatory, windows open, desks six feet apart. I will be teaching in a mask, behind a plexiglass shield, in a room with open windows in the Long Island autumn, which will be fine in September and unbearable by November, but we are not thinking about November, we are thinking about September, because thinking about November is a luxury reserved for people who are not also managing a husband with Alzheimer's and a garden full of zucchini.
I am sixty-three years old. I am in the demographic that doctors call "at risk," a phrase I find both accurate and offensive — I am at risk, but I am also at work, and the work is essential, and the students need me in the building, and the building needs me in the building, and I have been in that building for forty-one years and I am not going to stop going because a virus has decided that my age makes me vulnerable. I am vulnerable. I am also indispensable. These things coexist.
I made a peach crumble — the peaches are perfect right now, and the crumble is the easiest of all fruit desserts, requiring nothing more than sliced fruit, a little sugar, and a topping of butter, flour, oats, and brown sugar that becomes crunchy and golden in the oven. I made it because August deserves peach crumble and because I needed a dessert that didn't require precision, that allowed me to work with my hands without thinking, to crumble the butter into the flour with my fingers and feel the texture change from gritty to sandy and know, by touch, when it's right. Some knowledge is in the hands. Some comfort is in the crumbling. This week, the crumble was the comfort.
The crumble taught me something I already knew but needed reminding: that the simplest, warmest food is often the most honest. If you don’t have ripe peaches on hand — or if August has slipped into a cooler morning that calls for a bowl rather than a baking dish — this Warm ’n’ Fruity Breakfast Cereal carries the same spirit: fruit, gentle heat, a touch of sweetness, and nothing you have to think too hard about. It’s the kind of recipe you can make on the mornings when the news is already too much and your hands just need something good to do.
Warm ’n’ Fruity Breakfast Cereal
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
- 3 cups water
- 1 cup whole milk (or oat milk)
- 2 medium peaches, peeled and diced (or 1 1/2 cups mixed fresh or frozen fruit)
- 1/4 cup raisins or dried cranberries
- 3 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
- Pinch of salt
- Sliced fresh fruit and a drizzle of honey, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Combine liquids and oats. In a medium saucepan, bring the water and milk to a gentle simmer over medium heat. Stir in the rolled oats and salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes.
- Add fruit and spices. Stir in the diced peaches (or mixed fruit), raisins or dried cranberries, brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Continue cooking, stirring frequently, for another 4–5 minutes until the oats are tender and the fruit has softened and begun to release its juices.
- Finish the cereal. Remove the pan from heat. Stir in the butter and vanilla extract until the butter is fully melted and incorporated. Taste and adjust sweetness as desired.
- Serve warm. Spoon into bowls. Top with fresh sliced fruit and a drizzle of honey if desired. Serve immediately while the cereal is fragrant and the fruit is still bright.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 55g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 65mg