it wasn’t a big morning.
no brunch plans. no mason jars. no linen napkins draped just-so.
just a cold counter
and a bag of oats I kept moving around the cupboard like it might do something on its own.
I wasn’t trying to be wholesome.
I just needed to stir. something. anything.
What The Original Looked Like
Her Highness keeps it balanced:
four cups of oats, two cups of whatever nuts and seeds you like (she gives options, but somehow it still feels like there’s a correct answer).
brown sugar. cinnamon. salt.
a syrup made of honey or maple and oil—she’s flexible there, which surprised me.
then you stir. bake. stir again. cool it down.
dried fruit goes in after, like a final thought.
it’s clean. gentle. nothing showy.
but solid. like she knew people might need this on days when they don’t want to think too hard.
What I Did Differently
used maple syrup
because it felt more like Maine, and honey makes me remember a picnic I’d rather not get into.
skipped the flax. added extra walnuts.
not because I like them—just because they were there.
used olive oil. the good kind.
felt too nice for a granola day. used it anyway.
added dried cherries instead of apricots
because I found them first. and Mae always liked the red ones best.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
oven to 300°F.
Mae’s playlist still playing in the other room—some sad indie boy moaning about rivers.
I didn’t skip it. just stirred.
mixed the oats, the nuts, the seeds
in that green Pyrex bowl I’ve had since college. the one with the crack that hasn’t reached the rim yet.
made the syrup in the smallest saucepan I own.
sugar stuck to the spoon. burned my thumb. didn’t care.
poured it over the dry mix like it meant something.
stirred until everything looked glazed and tired.
spread it on parchment.
baked it for 45 minutes. stirred twice. left the oven open too long and let the heat escape like a sigh.
cooled it on the counter next to the kettle.
added the cherries. let them sink into the warmth like they’d been waiting.
A Few Things I Learned
nothing dramatic.
just that it smells better when you’re not rushing.
and it clumps more if you don’t over-stir.
and sometimes—
quiet food is the loudest thing in the room.
What I Did With The Extras
Mae took a jar.
said it was “depressing but good.”
I think that was a compliment.
I ate mine with yogurt that was a day expired.
tasted fine.
Would I Make It Again?
yes.
on purpose or by accident.
either way, it’d help.
That’s As Much As I Remember
the tray’s still on the stove.
the house smells like cinnamon and almost-burnt sugar.
I didn’t sweep the floor.
but I’d eat it again.
FAQs
Yeah. Totally Fine. It Changes The Vibe A Bit—Honey Feels Cozier, Maple Feels Moodier. Use What You’Ve Got.
Technically Yes. Emotionally… Maybe. Stirring Gives You Those Golden Clumps. But I’Ve Forgotten Before And It Still Turned Out Edible. Just Crispier.
Sure. But It’Ll Be A Little Sad Without It. Add Chocolate Chips After It Cools If You’Re Feeling Rebellious. Or Just Leave It Bare And Honest.
About Two Weeks In A Jar. Unless Someone Finds It. Then Less. I’Ve Stretched It To Three And Survived.
Yes. Also Dinner, If No One’S Watching. Mae’S Eaten It By The Handful At Midnight. I’Ve Done Worse.
Check out More Recipes:
Martha Stewart Granola Recipe
Description
Warm, Quiet, And Crumbly In All The Right Places.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Preheat the oven : Set the oven to 300°F / 150°C. Used the middle rack. Lined a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper that curled at the corners no matter how much I flattened it.
- Mix the dry ingredients : In a big green Pyrex bowl (the one with the hairline crack), combined 4 cups oats, 2 cups chopped nuts and seeds (walnuts, pumpkin, sunflower—no flax), 1½ tsp kosher salt, and ½ tsp cinnamon. Gave it a lazy stir with the wooden spoon that still smells like chili.
- Make the syrup : In a tiny saucepan, stirred together ½ cup light brown sugar, ⅓ cup maple syrup, and ⅓ cup good olive oil. Heated it over medium until the sugar dissolved and the edges started to bubble. Burned my thumb on the handle. Didn’t curse. Much.
- Combine and spread : Poured the warm syrup over the dry mix. Stirred until everything looked glazed and clumpy. Spread it onto the parchment-lined baking sheet as evenly as I could without overthinking it.
- Bake and stir : Baked for 45 minutes, pulled it out to stir around the 20-minute mark, then again near the end. Might’ve forgotten the second stir a bit too long—got some darker patches. They were the best part.
- Cool and add fruit : Let the tray cool on the stovetop until the whole house smelled like autumn. Stirred in 1 cup dried cherries once it was fully cooled. They softened a little. That felt right.
Notes
- Use the Right Oats : Always use old-fashioned rolled oats for the best texture. Quick oats can make the granola too soft, and steel-cut oats won’t bake properly.
- Don’t Skip Stirring : Stir the granola every 15 minutes while baking. This helps it bake evenly and prevents burning.
- Let It Cool Before Adding Fruit: Adding dried fruit too soon can make it hard and chewy. Wait until the granola is completely cool before mixing it in.
- Spread It Evenly : A thin, even layer on the baking sheet ensures crispy, golden granola. If it’s too thick, it won’t bake properly.
- Store It Right: Keep granola in an airtight container at room temperature. This keeps it fresh and crunchy for up to 2 weeks. For longer storage, freeze it in a sealed bag!