Petit Riz

I sat down to write in order to stop eating the granola I made last night. Granola is addictive, but this one beckons me unless I hide it from sight.

At the end of July I started searching for the recipe. I tried buckwheat, cocoa powder, cacao nibs, olive oil, coconut oil, coconut flakes, chia seeds, flax seeds, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, pistachios, honey, coconut sugar, brown sugar, and maple syrup. I heated and reheated my kitchen mercilessly through a sweltering summer, my arms coated with sweat as I flipped grains and nuts on baking sheets at five-minute intervals. I tended to my granola batches with doubtful affection, never quite believing I’d find the combination I longed for as I scoured the Internet and my cookbooks.

Cooks have often sung unequivocal praise for their granola. They’ll say: At last, I’ve found it, here is the secret ratio of oil to sweetener, here is the recipe you’ll be packing into jars to gift during the holidays! And indeed, there isn’t one, ideal recipe. It’s a matter of individual taste, isn’t it? For instance, I want mine to taste salty as salted butter, to have more nuts than oats, and to be golden, edging on brown.

I was sixteen when I first tasted granola. It was my second time in the US and I drank black coffee as if it was a precious, cool liquor only very intelligent people enjoyed. For breakfast I would fill a plastic white bowl with industrial granola, delivered from a cereal vat and drenched in milk. My obsession was so powerful that I helped myself to seconds, even when my jaw ached from chewing on the hard oats. I loved the grainy, yellow milk at the bottom of my bowl. It never occurred to me that one could eat granola with anything but milk. I loved the dense consistency, the shards of almonds covered in dusty, stale clumps of oat powder.

I forgot about granola until my college roommate served yogurt, granola and strawberries for dessert. I’d been in Philly for a year and the combination was magic, a revelation, even if her granola came from a cardboard box and was studded with shriveled raisins. That summer I ate homemade granola at a fancy restaurant in West Philly. It was the cheapest dish on the menu and came with melon.

This summer I sat in Sarah’s Italian kitchen eating the granola she had baked days before. Hers was a deep brown, rich with chia, flax seeds, raisins, pecans, and coconut sugar. That weekend we drank tea and poured hazelnut-rice milk over granola. Sarah, I have to make THIS, I told her. It’s SO good! Sanaë, she laughed, it’s easy, you should make your own. We were thirty minutes from Venice, in Treviso, a setting so charming and idyllic I could have eaten my dirty socks and found them delicious. Not that her granola wasn’t good. But when I returned to New York, I toiled away in my hot kitchen, beating the heat with more oven heat, hoping to be swept off my feet again, and though I came close, I was always shy of granola mastery.

And I’ve found it. This recipe I stole from a dear friend. His suggestion was radical: more nuts than oats, and keep them whole. I have found that stripping down the granola, telling its simplest story, in its purest form, is most effective. I’ve ignored the seeds, I’ve reduced the oil, I’ve kept the nuts whole to save time, and I’ve let it bake slowly in a mild oven for forty-five minutes. If you miss the seeds, sprinkle yours with raw chia and flax before eating.

The quantities may seem gargantuan, but don’t be fooled! This batch will vanish in a week.

Ingredients:
4 cups rolled oats
6 cups raw nuts (2 cups pecans, 2 cups almonds, 1 cup cashews)
2 cups coconut flakes
5 tablespoons coconut oil
½ cup honey
½ cup maple syrup (I use maple agave syrup, it’s cheaper and the flavor is similar)
Sea salt, such as fleur de sel
Any spices, to taste: cinnamon, cardamom, ginger work well

Directions:
Pre-heat the oven to 330F.

In a large bowl combine the nuts, coconut flakes, oats and three big pinches of salt. Sprinkle spices if using.

In a small saucepan, heat oil, honey and maple syrup over low heat. Once warm, whisk until combined. Pour over the dry ingredients and mix well with a large spoon.

Pour the granola onto two baking sheets covered with parchment paper. Bake for fifteen minutes without touching, then continue to bake for another 30 minutes, checking every five minutes for doneness. I usually stir my granola once or twice so the edges don’t brown before the middle. The coconut flakes can burn easily. If your granola starts to brown after the fifteen minutes you might bring the heat down to 300F. This really depends on your oven. Once the granola is cooked it will feel soft to the touch. Don’t despair. Pour it into a large bowl and place in the fridge. Let it cool overnight. It will get very crunchy, and in fact, I like to store my granola in the fridge.

If you don’t want to make your own granola here are a few of my favorite granola spots:

(Two Hands to your left, Rucola to your right)

Rucola:
This is my number one granola breakfast place. Theirs has whole roasted hazelnuts and walnuts. It’s served with Greek yogurt, mint leaves, ripe fresh berries, and a drizzle of honey. Rucola’s savory dishes are excellent too, though the granola will have you returning the very next day.

Two Hands:
This granola is a welcome surprise when so much attention is given to the flat white coffees and avocado smashes. But don’t be deceived, it’s good: speckled with raw chia seeds that gently bloat in the thick yogurt and accompanied with fruit, of course.

Oro Bakery:
Oro’s granola is gluten free and has slivers of roasted almonds. The portions are generous and accompanied with a delightful wild blueberry yogurt. And if you have a big appetite, try their pains au chocolat — perhaps the best in the city.