Next Up: Tie-Dying!

Now I'm sure that based on some of my previous posts about food, y'all probably think that I get up every morning and immediately begin the process of deep frying biscuits for my family.

That assumption really couldn't be farther from the truth, because deep frying is a labor-intensive process, and what I really do is saute' the biscuit dough in a stick of butter and then roll it around in some cheese before I begin the actual frying. I find that the fat content of cheese remains completely intact when it's surrounded by a layer of butter and then sealed with peanut oil.

Try it and see! And tell your cardiologist that BooMama sent you!

Seriously, despite the fact that my cooking does have a strong Southern bent (potatoes with cream cheese, cheddar cheese AND sour cream, anyone?), I do enjoy some foods that are, you know, healthy. Like berries. And vegetables. And, in the surprising-for-a-Southern-girl category, granola.

I know! Can you believe it? And I don't even put it in a cobbler or anything!

Anyway, last night I was clicking through some recipes, trying to find something breakfast-y to make because tomorrow is my Sunday to cook for our praise team and band (use the words "chancel choir" and "orchestra" if the thought of DRUMS IN CHURCH makes you twitch), and I always like to do something on the lighter side for them. Since they have to sing in front of the congregation, I try to fix foods that will result in the least amount of, um, gastric disturbance possible, because there's nothing quite like a monster belch straight into a microphone to bring the worship party to a screeching halt, now is there?

Can I get an amen?*

And much to my surprise, on my quest for light but hearty breakfast foods, I found a recipe for granola, which I had no idea you could make at home. No idea.

I don't know why it never occurred to me that I could combine oats and fruit and nuts and seeds and bind them together with honey and wheat germ in the confines of my own kitchen, but it didn't. Somehow I always pictured little hippie elves harvesting the granola from some magical granola tree (in California, of course), and in my limited imagination the elves would be wearing Birkenstocks and saying things like "DUDE. These dried cranberries are righteous!" and then they'd load their Volkswagen van with their granola goodness and make deliveries to grocery stores (albeit small mom and pop ones - and most definitely the ones with an organic bent) nationwide while the "Hair" soundtrack played in the background.

Because that's practical. And realistic. And all.

So today I'm venturing into unchartered food territory. I'm making granola. This event may not be noteworthy to most of y'all, but I have lived in the South all of my life, and we typically don't fool with grains unless we first boil the life out of them and then slather them with butter or sugar. That's our heritage, y'all.

By the way, when I get to the grocery store in a few minutes, I plan to announce to any passersby in my aisle that I'M BUYING WHEAT GERM. I'll let you know how it goes.

Dude.

* That was for you, Addie. :-)