Amaranth Stays Home
I’m going to miss my morning oatmeal while on the road. My breakfast at home is pretty elaborate, right on the border between recipe and ritual. I start with a green tea stock (The bag sits in the water just long enough to leave a little color, then gets transferred to my tea mug.) While the stock comes to boil, I use my small cast iron skillet to toast a handful of steel-cut oats. As soon as I can smell them, I add them to the stock. Then I toast some pepitas in the same cast iron pan. Half the toasted pepitas go into the mortar to be crushed with some salt, and the rest goes whole into the stock. Then I add craisins and cocoa nibs. (Sometimes, if I’m feeling ambitious, I toast the cocoa nibs.) When all that comes to a boil, I add the oats, stir, bring back to a boil, then turn the stove off and quickly cover the pot. I leave the kitchen until I remember I haven’t eaten breakfast yet.
I’m trying to come up with a streamlined version of all that for the upcoming bike trip. The basic technique is sound. The only cooking I can do with the amount of fuel I want to carry is boil-and-steep. Soon as the water comes to a boil, I want to turn the stove off. Obviously, I can’t carry a mortar and pestle, to say nothing of a cast iron pan. No toasting allowed.
I don’t want a month’s worth of oats stuffing my panniers, and, if I can I’d like to avoid those super sweet quick-cook packets.
The right size seems to be those Bob’s Red Mill bags. That opens up lots of possibilities beyond what I’ve tried in the past. There’s oats, millet, quinoa, amaranth.
An experimental pot of Amaranth is steeping on the stove behind me— those tiny seeds sponging up the steaming hot water, hopefully becoming a palatable (who knows, maybe even tasteful) pot of seed porridge. Will it turn out OK? The instructions say to bring it to a boil and then simmer for 20 minutes. I want to get away with a long, hot soak, rather than a simmer. If I have to simmer it, then poor, dear Amaranth can’t come on this trip. As I said, I can’t use that much fuel.
But if I can make it work, it would be great traveling food: easy to pack, doesn’t take up much space, amenable to either sweet or savory flavors. I’ll tell you if it passes right after the second Share button below.
In the meantime, I’m putting that oatmeal to good use, riding the indoor trainer, with the help of my Rouvy app…
The amaranth was a fail, I’m afraid. It needed more boil-time then I’m willing to give it at a campsite. I made it palatable at home with the help of a long cook. With a little half-and-half added, it had the texture and some of the taste of buttery grits. Amaranth doesn’t get to join me on my trip. Sorry.