Sexing Up Cereal
In a blog devoted to food pleasure, the word “muesli” is unlikely to evince even the slightest moan of pleasure, but a few years ago, I was introduced to this homemade concoction that sent me tripping down the titillation trail.
|One of 3 great Shoshoni Cookbooks|
Perhaps it was the setting: A yoga retreat (my first) at Shoshoni Mountain Ashram and the quiet, contemplative days of twice daily practice with evening chanting and meditation. Perhaps it was the context: A much needed respite from the grief of losing my dog of nearly 16 years, coupled with a long summer spent nursing my stroke-crippled mother who had to be eventually moved into assisted living. Or perhaps it was the circumstance: Five full days of being fed by someone else, a luxury I’ve not had in my adult life or the fact that for the first time I could effortlessly slide into the Hanumanasana, chest and arms raised to the sky in a gesture that indicates a leap of faith.
|A Colorado Peach|
Whatever it was, the cold, sweet cereal sent shivers through my limbs and turned up the volume on every single sensate cell in my body. Not normally inclined to cereal (my father ate his Wheaties with milk and coffee and the only reason I ate Cheerios as a child was to ladle spoon after spoon of sugar into my bowl so I could slurp the sugary milk at the end),I lapped up Shoshoni’s combination of sweet (maple syrup) and salty (toasted slivered almonds) with a hint of sour (thinly sliced Colorado peaches) like it was nectar. The world was bright with color and possibility again as I sat outside in the sun beneath clacking aspens in the clear mountain air.
|Karen’s Homemade Muesli|
At home, in my own mountain retreat, I mix lactose free milk with a bit of vanilla and some rolled oats and a couple of tablespoons of golden flax seed and stir in the maple syrup and sliced peaches. Then I let the muesli sit overnight so that in the morning I have a gorgeous suspension full of milk-fattened oat and flax seed that cuts through the sizzling air even on the hottest day. I break out this recipe every August, just in time for Colorado peaches, and eat it with pleasure, remembering what it felt like to move literally through my days, a sensate being, stretching and breathing, writing and sitting; swallowing the ripeness of the season with every bite.
|Not quite my hanumanasana, but it sure felt like it.|