Inspired by the encouragement of a friend, I've made an upgrade in my morning oatmeal. Having only had (and pretty much hated) instant oatmeal as a kid, I'm not quite sure how I managed to give oatmeal a try again. I think it might have been those cold New England mornings! Anyway, I've pretty much had a bowl of oatmeal every morning since about a month after I moved here. At first it was quick-oats, but before too long I upgraded to rolled oats. Then on Saturday, I happened to be on the phone with someone just as I was loading my organic rolled oats into a plastic bag in the bulk food aisle at Whole Foods. She said to go for the steel-cut, which were actually also organic (not surprising) and actually cheaper (shocking) thant the rolled oats. So yesterday morning, I made the move to steel-cut oats. Today is morning number two of this bliss. And though it is very tempting--you'll see how tempting in a moment--to wax poetic to extol the virtues of steel-cut oats, I'll keep it simple: dang, they're awesome!
They are awesome enough that they put some poetry in my mind this morning. Some of you may remember that I went to hear Galway Kinnell at a poetry reading this spring. One of the poems he read was "Oatmeal." Unfortunately, if you follow that link, you'll have to read it yourself (he won't be there to read it to you!), so you may not appreciate just how slowly and playfully (and thus incredibly amusingly) he read it. It really isn't about oatmeal quite so much as it is about his having a bowl of oatmeal with an imaginary John Keats. Somehow I found myself eating (and loving!) my steel-cut oats (aka Irish oats) and remembering this poem and thinking "I bet they were eating these."
I'm also thinking of inviting someone to breakfast tomorrow. Perhaps breakfast with Thomas Aquinas--and hearty whole-grain goodness--could start me off on a great day of writing!
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