Category Archives: Breakfast

Ridiculously Remiss from Spoonful

I have been too long gone. I apologize. I deserted my blog; hook, line, sinker; without even a backward glance. Why? Not because I haven’t been cooking…I had so much to share, and so many cooking conquests and yet not a single one was translated into blog-ese. part of it was that my computer was so darn slow (before I replaced the hard drive which apparently is kind of like computer Botox, takes away many of the visible wrinkles without completely erasing the signs of aging) and I was too impatient to wait for my pictures to upload or for the actual words on the screen to catch up with the speed of my typing (which frankly, isn’t even all that fast). Partially, it was studying for the NCLEX and job-hunting (which I passed AND got a job, hooray!) and part of it was a total dearth of the stories because I was not longer in the ER 3 days a week (soon to be remedied…eek!) And also…it was enjoying the summer weather…soaking up every single drop of sun and basking in its amazing warmth (until the Big Apple became the Baked Apple and I actually COMPLAINED ABOUT THE HEAT…never before has that come from my mouth). At last, I return.  However, my blog has missed many memorable exploits. For example, with the first fruit of the season to arrive in our CSA, I was inspired to try this:

rubies of the early summer











And with my lovely sis’ we ventured on even more cook-a-thons (she, holding my hand all the way through, as I rolled my eyes at the outrageous pickiness of the classic macaron recipe, and simultaneously steeled my nerves for my fear of failing) BUT WE SUCCEEDED! Recipe to come shortly, but I simply cannot do it justice today. A sneak preview:

double trouble

And with the increasing CSA bounty, I have had my hands FULL. And therefore, if for no other reason, the blog must come back, because all the awesome green (and other color) creations that I am making need to be recorded so I don’t forget them for next summer! Easy suppers (ie: taco salads, black bean veggie burgers, vegetable & tofu stir fries), crunchy lunches (read: massive salads) and delicious and different breakfasts…like the one I made today!

midsummer CSA love

Huevos Rancheros

“East Coast Style” inspired by Deb at Smitten Kitchen (who is my kitchen guru despite all the other cooking blogs I have found and delighted in…her taste is superb and her writing style is still my fave.)

Combination: Salsa Fresca con Salsa Verde Crudo (tomatillo salsa)

Makes about 2 cups.

2 large fresh ripe tomatoes, finely chopped (set aside)

10 tomatillos, husked and well washed, quartered
1/2 large white onion, peeled and coarsely chopped
3 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed

1 jalapeño pepper, stemmed, seeded and chopped
1/4 cup chopped cilantro leaves
Fresh lime juice or 1 teaspoon red-wine vinegar
Salt and freshly ground pepper, pinch of allspice

  1. Puree all ingredients together (reserve the ripe tomatoes) until smooth, then combine with the tomatoes that were set aside, taste and adjust seasoning as necessary.
  2. Let the flavors marry for 15 minutes or so before serving, but serve within a couple of hours.
Los Huevos
Tortillas (I humbly recommend The Tortilla Factory, white corn, AMAZING if you don’t have a tortilla press)
1/2 cup cheddar cheese, finely grated
GOYA black bean soup (this brand is awesome, this is the secret to the ease of this recipe)
Salsa Fresca
Heat tortillas in a lightly greased pan/skillet. Flip over when browned slightly. Top with some of the cheddar cheese. Crack an egg directly on top of the tortilla. Don’t worry if it runs over the edges a bit. It’s about to get way messier; embrace it! Season to taste with salt and pepper. When the egg is about halfway set, slide your spatula under and gentle flip the whole thing over. The yolk may break or it may not, either way, it’s delicious. Sprinkle a bit more cheese on this side. Cook to your preferred level of done-ness. Flip onto a plate and decorate as you desire with the black bean soup concoction, fresh salsa, and grated cheese. YUM
(pics to come)
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Posted by on July 23, 2011 in Breakfast, Snacks


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Healing Belly: Morning Glory Muffins

Sorry for the lame-O photO today...rushing around this morning and had to use my phone camera for the snapshot.

Mmmm, I made the most delicious and nutritious muffins yesterday. Truly! The word muffin is not usually synonymous with nutritious (even if it poses as nutritive) but this is actually factually a yummy-tasting specimen.  It doesn’t even taste like cardboard, as my mother suspiciously asked me today, point-blank, as I gushed about them. Rightly so, she is suspicious of replacing butter and other deliciously decadent fats with healthier alternatives like applesauce, and for the most part, she is right. Nothing stands up to butter and fat in the taste category. But if you are looking for something that won’t necessarily compete, but simply serve as a humble and healthy alternative, then this is it. And it won’t even make you muffin-top over those nice new pants you just purchased. Unless you eat 20 of them. Bah ha ha.

Morning Glory Muffins


  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 cup whole wheat flour
  • 1/2 cup white sugar
  • 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 2 cups grated carrots (about 3 medium-sized)
  • 1 apple – peeled, cored, and chopped
  • 1/2 cup shredded coconut (raw or sweetened, to taste)
  • 1 egg
  • 2 egg whites
  • 3/4 cup applesauce
  • 1/8 cup vegetable oil
  • 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
  • 2 tablespoons chopped walnuts
  • 2 tablespoons toasted wheat germ (if you have it. I didn’t, and didn’t miss it.)


  1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Lightly oil 18 muffin cups, or coat with nonstick cooking spray.
  2. For ease and speed: food process your carrots, apple, walnuts and coconut all together, and set aside.
  3. In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, egg whites, apple sauce, oil and vanilla.
  4. In a large bowl, combine flours, sugar, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Stir in carrots, apples, coconut and walnuts mixture. Stir in wet ingredient mixture until just moistened. Spoon the batter into the prepared muffin cups, filling them about 3/4 full.
  5. Bake at 375 degrees F (190 degrees C) for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the tops are golden and spring back when lightly pressed. (I had to bake them much longer, roughly 25-30 min – test the centers!)

Amount Per Serving  Calories: 194 | Total Fat: 4.2g | Cholesterol: 12mg

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Posted by on May 4, 2011 in Breakfast, Snacks


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Poaching a Snow Day: Perfecting Egg & Toast

Today’s snow day breakfast was this:


Just what the Nurse Practitioner ordered for a head cold on a snow day: poached egg with toast, tea and DayQuil. Yum.

For the record, last snow day’s breakfast was this:


Crepes A La Snow…

Made with this:


Uncle Bill's hand-hewn mixing spoon in its innagural batter

Apparently the only things I accomplish on snow days are delicious breakfasts. I haven’t been outside yet to view the (supposed) 19 inches of snow, nor have I cracked a textbook. But I did learn how to make poached eggs. Who knew that all it took was a splash of vinegar in a barely simmering pot of water, swirled into a whirlpool with a spatula? Now you know too.

Nothing much to add to the recipe that I found on Smitten Kitchen, except to comment that is perfect, has an incredible photo montage dedicated to the process (which I am not sure how she accomplished with only two hands), and is only missing red-hot chili flakes it its garnish. The toast fingers are ingenious. Check it out.

The crepes recipe was found in a tiny little cabin in the North Cascades, in an old cookbook. I think it is a pretty darn perfect recipe as well. I copied the recipe on an old sheet of notebook paper, which I now can’t seem to find anywhere. I promise the recipe in a future post, when I alight on the it again…

In the meantime, I will most certainly be making more poached-belly eggs. They are runny and delicious and my boyfriend is missing the “eggs-taste-good” gene, so they are all mine.

In my post-poached egg bliss, I am spending a moment reflecting on my clinical experience yesterday. I have given some more thought to bed pans. They really are dreadful. It was one thing to help my residents use the toilet while working in Assisted Living, but it really is quite a different thing to help a patient scoot a pink plastic oddly-shaped…thing… under his/her bum. From the moment I walked in at 7:30 to take vitals on my first patient, to the 30 minutes I spent before leaving at 2:00pm helping my nurse clean up a patient who had been lying in her own excrement for too long, most of my day was about poo. Again. I can’t seem to escape it. Even as a nursing student, where there are many more “important” things to mull over (like my recent successful IV insertion in the ED last week, or the deodorant container that was found in the rectum of another individual the very same day), poop just seems to follow me, and I really think it’s important to dwell on the un-enchanting topic for the patient’s sake. I think we all can relate. I hate needing to go #2 when I am on a camping trip, or in a public restroom. But sh*t happens, and sometimes you just have to. However, now put yourself in the shoes of your bed-ridden patient. Can’t you see the conundrum? Not only do you have to go #2 IN bed, you need to co-opt someone’s help in order to do it! And if you try to hold it, telling yourself you will be out of bed in just a few days? Oh no, you’ll be much worse off now: the doctors and nurses will note that you haven’t had a recent BM and will give you all sorts of fabulous concoctions to make more BM appear from your rectum than you ever dreamed possible. The bed pan will become a fleeting dream of the past, something you wish you had used gratefully, now knowing that the alternative is soiling your diaper/chuck every 5 minutes and needing to press the call bell for yet another fresh set of sheets.

The underlying theme of all this is the loss of dignity that seems to necessarily occur for hospital inpatients, especially of the bedridden variety. But is it really necessary? While crouched in a position of extreme vulnerability, trying to help a patient attach her diaper from where she was awkwardly standing over me holding onto the bed (don’t ask me how I got in this position), this patient looked down at me and shook her head sadly. She said, “Growing old really is the pits. Everything turns upside down and inside out and you look at the situation and it seems so surreal. I don’t even know how I got here.” From my awkward position and preoccupation with getting the diaper successfully fastened, I could hardly think of the right thing to say. I think I mumbled something comforting, but when I finally got her seated again, I tried to rectify the pacifying words I had said before. I gave her an opportunity to share more, but she seemed past the moment of vulnerable sharing. She smiled at me, held my hand closely and told me my hands were cold. She thanked me gracefully, and I was reminded how powerless yet strong these elderly people can be. What I wish I had said to my patient while crouched on the ground was this:

“You’re right. It can be difficult and frustrating to grow old and lose independence. I can only imagine what you feel like right now. I know that so many other people feel exactly the same way that you do, powerless and a burden on others. But we will all be in your place some day.  We all will need and rely on the kindness of others. I can only hope to age as gracefully and willfully as you. Your warmth and willingness to share helps me see you better for who you are, not just a patient but an individual with a life and an incredible story. Thank you for sharing part of it with me.”

Of course I didn’t say all this. But I hope she got the gist of what I wanted to share with her just with my presence. Her response to my fumbling care was kind and comforting, while another patient’s was jarring but just as understandable. At 7:30am, while I made rounds on my patients and taking vitals, I walked in to a patient’s room and greeted him, so as not to startle him out of his sleep. He didn’t look up from his cocoon of sheets. I gently pulled back the covers, as I do with many patients, and attempted to place the blood pressure cuff on his upper arm without disturbing him. Quick as lightning, his arm snaked out and grabbed my wrist and said a harsh, “NO!” Totally startled, I dropped the cuff and backed up quickly. I meekly mumbled that I was just a nursing student, there to take his morning vitals, and  that I was sorry to bother him. But already he was shaking his head. “No, no, no you cannot take my vitals. I don’t care what you are here to do. You all take my DIGNITY. Yes, my dignity, it is a good word for what you do, and I can’t take it anymore.”

His string of words made no sense to me in the moment, but I knew that they must connect to some event that I wasn’t involved in, although I felt personally wounded by them. I tried one more time to explain myself, but his refusal was clear as he pulled the sheet back over his head. Not wanting to risk another violent encounter, I left the room, shaken. I informed my nurse preceptor of the events, and she shook her head, confused as well. Since it was a new shift, we had both just arrived. However, she told me that this particular patient usually had a sunny disposition and had been singing to her just the other day. Later on, we discovered the source of his injury. Apparently, towards the end of the night shift, he had rung his call bell incessantly, to no avail. He needed to use the bed pan, and for whatever reason, no one responded. Unable to get it himself, he immediately felt stripped of power and independence. But his dignity was not lost, he said, until someone finally came in and put him on a bed pan and then left. That person, whoever it was, then went home, probably forgetting entirely that he/she had placed a patient on a bed pan and forgot to inform the responsible party in shift change. From my vantage, I could see how the mistake had occurred, but the patient suffered as a result. I know that one day I will make a similar mistake. It is impossible for a nurse or nursing assistant to remember everything, all the time. Mistakes are bound to happen. I don’t blame the nurse/tech who made the error, but I hope that when I make my mistake, I will have the opportunity to rectify it with the patient myself. It feels so bad to let someone down, especially someone who is so dependent on you. In this instance, I was able to listen to the patient and let him vent. He let out a torrent of emotion and feeling, and by the afternoon, he was singing again. It was a good outcome, and an important lesson for me. These wounds can be healed, and mistakes forgiven, but we have to listen to our patients.

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Posted by on January 27, 2011 in Breakfast, Healing Spoonful


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Homemade Applesauce Oatmeal: A cozy fall treat

Drowning in apples, swimming in sauce. Not for long, though. While I ambitiously put a few jars of my applesauce in the freezer 2 weeks ago, imagining I would find them in the middle of the winter when I was severely apple-anemic, I have already tapped into my stores. In a post-Halloween and birthday weekend funk, this is the perfect antidote and best way to start an unwelcome Monday. This warm combo tastes like breakfast apple crumble. It makes me happy, cozy and warm to my toes. It also helps me face the day, which is 32 degrees too cold, in my opinion. This recipe is simple and sweet, and tastes even better when you pick the apples yourself, or at least from a bin at a local farmers market. 🙂

Simply Applesauce

  • 3 to 4 lbs of peeled, cored, and chopped apples
  • Juice of one lemon, plus some zest
  • 2-3 tsp cinnamon
  • 2 tsp vanilla
  • ¼ dark brown sugar, or to taste
  • 1 cup water
  • ½ tsp salt
  • A dollop of brandy or rum if you feel like a little mischief

1 Put all ingredients into a large pot and cover. Bring the mixture to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer covered for 20-30 minutes. Test for softness with a fork, it should pierce the apples with no resistance.

2 Remove cooked mixture from heat. Mash with potato masher, and you may also blend half of it, depending on the consistency you desire.

Ready to serve, either hot or refrigerated. Delicious with an array of partners: such as oatmeal, steel cut oats, vanilla yogurt, or even ice cream.

Freezes well, use within a year!

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Posted by on November 1, 2010 in Breakfast, Snacks


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Inglorious Bast-turds

Turd is a 4-letter word that I much prefer over test. I promise, I am not talking about wiping bums today, but I do not feel ashamed in at least mentioning it. I would far prefer to clean up after someone who passed their bowels than take a pharmacology/physiology/issues of nursing test…ANY DAY.

I am a bit worn out on exam-taking today. This week. This month.

If there was a pie chart of my life, studying for exams would be disproportionately representative. I know that I need to learn this material in order to be a safe and effective nurse, but this method of tricky multiple choice testing day-in-and-day-out really takes a toll. That’s why going to the hospital this week was such welcome relief. Patience may be a virtue, but I am sadly lacking it when it comes to waiting for competence in nursing practice. Yesterday, however, reminded me why it is worth working for.

Our preceptor placed us with telemetry/cardiac monitor patients this week. In the RICU, this may seem like a step down in terms of hands-on learning since our patients weren’t dealing with tracheostomies and ventilators, but in terms of gleaning knowledge from our patients about their present illness, it was profoundly educational and emotional. This was my first patient that could actually speak to me!  More than speaking to me, she entertained me to no end.* Breathing was difficult, her energy was low, but her wit abounded. She was a total trip. She told a doctor that she was going to kick, ahem, his little “behind” if he didn’t get her off the drug that was causing her anxiety. While she was consulting with a palliative care doctor about possible treatments, her son was telling me all about her career working for the police department and before that, traveling with the army for close to 20 years. In a break from talking with the physician, her son asked, “Hey mom, what’s your favorite gun?” Without missing a beat (quite a feat on a 50%-O2 saturation partial face mask) she responded, “M-16 and M-19,” then she turned back to the doctor and continued conversing about her treatment. I was momentarily shocked that this little tiny lady had not only handled a gun, but that the names of her personal “favorites” had tumbled from her lips as easy as 1,2,3. Previously, we had spoken about salsa dancing and I had pegged her as a dancer in her former life, but that clearly wasn’t all… She is quite a character. Unfortunately, her condition doesn’t promise a quick recovery: sigmoid colon cancer, pancreatic cancer that quickly metastasized to the liver, bones and lungs. For this reason, my day with her was quite bittersweet. I was able to talk to her about her life and illness, take my time in giving a bed bath which she and I both thoroughly enjoyed, and also meet one of her incredible children who moved here from different state barely a week ago to be with her in the hospital. I was able to understand her condition (an achievement in itself) but this also opened my eyes to the possibility (or reality) that she will most likely not be leaving the hospital with her son. This is a hard pill to swallow.

When I left the hospital yesterday, though, I wasn’t sad. Maybe my residents helped me understand death and dying a little better. There was a part of me that was sad for her and her family. But I was able to compartmentalize that sentiment and also recognize another emotion: elation. At 6am that morning, I left the house as a Negative Nelly, feeling down-in-the-dumps over another upcoming test, compounded by a serious sleep deficit. But at 3:30pm, as I left the hospital even more weary, I had a completely different outlook. Again, my patient reminded me why I am here. It made me so excited to learn more, even if it means test-anxiety, some more sleepless nights, and even the monotony of studying on a Friday night. It’s only a few more weeks until August, and then it’s three weeks OFF!

In honor of my impending cooking-fest, I will post a recipe that I found the time to make the other day and ADORED.

Eggs Nesting In Tomatoes On Toast

Adapted slightly from A Cozy Kitchen

Serves 4 (maybe…)

  • 4-5 eggs (separated, reserving 2 of the whites for another use)
  • 1/8-1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
  • 2 cloves of garlic (minced)
  • ½-1 tsp red pepper flakes
  • 1/2 tsp of dried oregano
  • 1 24-oz can of whole tomatoes (San Marzano highly recommended)
  • 1/2 tsp of salt
  • 2 Tbsp of chopped fresh basil (I’m growing mine on my fire escape!)
  • 4 slices bread–whatever you have on hand, toasted

In a cold medium skillet, combine the oil, garlic, red pepper flakes, and oregano.  Turn on the heat and warm over medium heat until the garlic begins to become fragrant (without browning), about 2 minutes.

Raise the heat to high, then use your hands to “crush” each tomato into the pan. (I used a fork/finger to pierce them because the squirt-factor was out of control. Beware of your cute t-shirt, it is in danger!) Season with salt and pepper.  Fry the tomatoes, continuing to break them up with a fork. Cook until they concentrate and no longer look watery (5-7 minutes).

Lower the heat to medium and stir in the egg whites.  Cook until the whites become opaque and firm, thickening the tomato sauce, about 1 minute.

Turn off the heat. Using the back of a spoon, make 4 indentations in the sauce, allowing a few inches around each.  Nestle an egg yolk into each indent.  Pull the sauce in from the edges of the pan so that it cradles each of the yolks.  Cover the skillet and leave it on the stove, heat off, until the yolks are just warmed through and beginning to set, about 3 minutes for runny yolks.

Gently spoon some sauce and a yolk onto each piece of toast and serve immediately. Use a large spoon, perhaps lightly oiled, to pick up a nestled yolk without breaking it. Enjoy for breakfast, lunch, snack, or dinner. Or another special occasion time (plucking your eyebrows??)

*information changed & withheld to protect patient identity


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A Harmonica & Overnight Oats

Yesterday was a good day at work for stories. I can’t imagine any job being more entertaining, more full of simple pleasures, than this one. When I arrived at work, another care manager was preparing to help give a resident a hydro. She hadn’t used the hydro in a while, and requested my assistance in drawing the bath water. (A “hydro” is an overgrown bathtub that allows our residents to transfer from wheelchair to a “hydro seat” and then we pull up a self-sealing door to make it into an enclosed tub.) It isn’t exactly hi-tech, but definitely requires some practice in learning the different buttons for locking the door, starting the jets, draining the water, etc. The resident we were helping is quite an individual. Abigail* hails from Minnesota (and has the lovely midwest twang) and plays the harmonica. Who plays the harmonica these days? No one! And boy, does she play it. Any requests, no problem. Granted, the songs that she knows aren’t all in my repertoire, nor would she know how to play any Blackeyed Peas if I suggested it…but you get the gist. The residents make a request, and off Abigail goes, lustily making music. As I helped her undress in the chair next to the hydro, the last thing that she gave me was her harmonica. She looked me in the eye and said, “Better put this somewhere safe, huh?”

I replied, “Sure thing, Annie. You know how much I love it when you play for us.”

“Oh, you do, do you? Huh. That’s good. Give me my harmonica.” And without further ado, naked Abigail unabashedly played me a song on her harmonica. It is an image that I hope to never forget. And then, when she had finished, the other care manager walked in, having finished gathering bubble bath and a washcloth from Abigail’s room. Abigail said, “Oh! You missed it.” And off she went again. We looked at each other and smiled a special smile. I think it meant, “Who else has a job quite like this? We are so lucky to know these incredible individuals.”

After helping with the hydro, I went down to the Bistro to help lead social with the other residents. We have this huge white board that is blocked out in a crossword puzzle diagram. There’s a packet of 27 different crossword puzzle clues that fill the grid perfectly. A few of my residents are total pros at the crossword puzzle. They sit in their rooms and do them; they come down to social and do them. I am totally floored by how sharp they are, and how quickly they shout out the answers to the clues. Faster than I can write. One of the clues I read off was:

“For Me And My ____” I looked up from the clue, confused. I asked, “Is this a song?” 5 sets of eyes looked back at me in astonishment. “Well of course it is,” one of the answered.” “Me and my gal!” another said. “You should ask your grandma about it, I am sure she knows it!”

“But I don’t know it,” I said. “Will you hum it a little bit?”

They did better than that. Starting tentatively, but gaining confidence after the first stanza, 5 wonderful women sang for me.

The bells are ringing for me and my gal,
The birds are singing for me and my gal.
Ev'rybody's been knowing to a wedding they're going,
And for weeks they've been sewing,
Ev'ry Susie and Sal.

They're congregating for me and my gal;
The parson's waiting for me and my gal.
And sometime I'm gonna build a little home for two,
Or three or four or more,
In love land for me and my gal.

Do you know why the birds are singing,
Do you know why the bells are ringing?
I'm gonna give you a big surprise -
I'm gonna tell you why.

The bells are ringing for me and my gal,
The birds are singing for me and my gal.
Ev'rybody's been knowing to a wedding they're going,
And for weeks they've been sewing,
Ev'ry Susie and Sal.

It was so wonderful. 5 ladies singing together. They all know the words. And when they finished, one said, “Huh, we’re all gals. Maybe we should have sung, “For me and my guy.”

*Name changed.

Got home late at night, we have barely any food in the fridge or cabinets (yes, I need to go shopping) but I couldn’t stop thinking about this recipe that I keep stumbling upon on almost every single food or fitness blog that I visit. Rather, it’s not even a recipe really, but more of an approach. An approach to oats. So I scrounged together the most basic elements of the dish and, in 5 minutes, voila, done-zo. Pop it into the fridge and sleep until tomorrow. Wake up, and it is ready. Eat it. Repeat. And oh, my, goodness: it is good. I can’t wait to try it approximately 31 other ways. Baskin n Robbins, watch out. Your 31 flavors of ice cream may just be outdone by my 31 flavors of oats.

Overnight Oats

Preparation method #1 (out of at least 557)

Oats (I used a multigrain blend: rye, barley, oats, wheat)

Yogurt (any variety. This time I used Danon Raspberry Light – it was hiding in the back of the fridge)

Milk (vanilla soy this time around)

Mix-ins and Toppers (I added them in the morning but they can also be added the night before depending on whether you care for the crunchy factor or not. I do.)

Overnight oats are just what they sound like. Raw oats that sit in a bowl overnight with any kind of liquid and “magically” cook by morning. The liquid seeps into the oats slowly, like marinating them, and the texture and flavor that results is indescribable. Much better than plain Jane oatmeal (which is not bad, but this is just better). Proportions may vary. I used 1/2 cup oats, 1/4 cup of soy milk and 1/4-1/2 cup of raspberry yogurt. I ate mine cold the next day, but I can definitely see the beauty in zapping it in the microwave for about 30 seconds. Or more. On top, I added dried blueberries, some Nature’s Path cereal, flax seed and a few pecans. Not for any reason besides the fact that it was all we had in the house. I plan on blogging about some more exciting and creative mixers and toppers once I go shopping and start experimenting. I have a feeling that this breakfast may become a main staple of my diet. ENJOY!

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Posted by on March 10, 2010 in Breakfast, Healing Spoonful


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