Some people make their porridge with water. Some people add salt. My neighbour frequently has hers with her favourite kippers from the Isle of Man. Me, I’m a decadent, hot, creamy, spiced sugar type of porridge lover. The richer the better, and the promise of a steaming, creaming bowl of organic oats is one of the few things that gets me out of bed voluntarily of a winter’s morning. So it’s not actually winter yet. Who’s counting? I’m just making sure I get my practice in early.

And to make a perfect porridge is an art. The problem is you don’t want to be standing there all morning. You want it to be quick, and satisfying. Not necessarily an oxymoron. Larousse recommends bringing a litre of water to the boil with 2 1/2 teaspoons of salt. Once boiling, add to the water 2 cups of oatmeal. Keep stirring until the required consistency is reached then simmer for 20 minutes. He adds that each person should be allowed to season their own porridge and it should be served with cream or milk.

The venerated Mrs Beeton says much the same, although she says oats can be soaked in water overnight then drained, the water brought to the boil with salt and the oats being added once boiling point has been reached. Also, stir and simmer for 20 minutes.

There have also been various recipes for soaking oats in milk and leaving it in the bottom left oven of an AGA (the lowest temp) overnight, reviving it in the morning with a little fresh milk and a few minutes stirring over a hot plate. I’ve done this and it works, so if you have an AGA you just need to figure out your own method of how much milk : oats. More rather than less to start with.

I don’t have an AGA, and I also don’t often have time to dawdle in the morning as most of my time allocation is taken up with actually getting out of bed. So this is what I normally do.

I usually start the day by playing peek-a-boo with my alarm snooze button for about 30 minutes. Once I have actually managed to heave myself upright, I stagger to Dakota’s bedroom. If she is still not up (unusual) I know it is my cue to entice her out of bed with promises of heavenly hot and creamy oats. I find my way to the kitchen and the coffee (I think it is a genetically imprinted memory, like butterflies) and as the first steaming whiff tantalises my sleep-deprived brain, I measure 1/2 a litre of milk into a pot. I say measure but I mean that in the loosest sense of the word. I turn the heat up high and add a cup (250ml) of organic rolled oats. By this stage I had better have some caffeine in my system or the milk is likely to boil over. As soon as it comes to the boil I turn it down to medium and stir constantly for four or five minutes, not even stopping when I sip my mocha, and adding a little more milk if it becomes necessary. As soon as the oats are cooked through I plop them in a bowl, top with fresh cold milk, and Dakota’s choice of sugar, honey or maple syrup.

Rolled Oats are the whole kernel of the oats that have been heated and rolled flat. They are very nutritious, high in fibre and contain vitamins and minerals. I buy mine from the healthfood store where you can also buy oatmeal, that has been ground or flaked to various degrees. I prefer the slight crunch of rolled oats. I also prefer my porridge with a little fresh fruit.

I’m not really fussy about the type of fruit, although I think something a little tart really offsets the richness of the oats and wakes you up. But actually, I think it’s just good memories that dictate this preference.

As a little girl on cold winter mornings I can remember being awakened with a steaming bowl of porridge and honey which I was allowed to eat curled up in bed, while my mom laid our school uniforms out to warm in front of the electric heater. No central heating in Africa, and the winters could be really chilly.

Years later when I was 17 and backpacking in Europe for the first time, my sister and I got off a train just inside the border of Austria at around 2 o’clock one morning, and trudged up the snow covered and eerily moonlit mountain to a log cabin, with a bunch of Austrians. We got to bed at about 6.00am, my sister and I huddled together for warmth in a still cold cabin, but too exhausted to keep our eyes open any longer. Hours later, the sun glaring off pristine white acres of mountainside, we were awakened with bowls of steaming hot cooked muesli, to which our generous hosts added nuts and segments of fresh mandarin. Pure heaven, and a taste I’ve never forgotten.

Maybe because that trip also revealed the most amazing bathroom architecture I’ve ever seen. When I asked for directions to the toilet I was sent off to a lovely little wooden outhouse, complete with a wonky carved heart in the door. I remember smiling at the quirkiness as I opened the door, and my jaw dropping as I realised the outhouse had only 3 walls, the third being completely open to the elements (and a fairly steep drop) leaving you with nothing but the staggeringly beautiful mountain peaks to contemplate, and giving new meaning to the term answering the call of nature.

This bowl of beautiful oats I ate with a handful of raspberries from our garden so I hope that qualifies for me to enter this post in Andrea’s Grow Your Own event.

For all my recipes try

Vanielje Kitchen Cook Book

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How to …cook porridg

Tags: breakfast, food blogging event, GYO, porridge

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