Homemade Bircher Muesli

Thursday, April 11th. Jess's birthday. She would have been twenty-four. I lit the vanilla candle at five-thirty in the cast iron apartment light and made the eggs over-medium, the way she made them, in the cast iron Kristin gave me. The butter was not shy. The yolk stayed runny. The toast was done in the toaster. I ate them at the kitchen table, not standing at the window this time — sitting at the table, in the chair, like someone who has a place to sit. I talked to her out loud. I have been talking to her for three years now and I have gotten better at it, which is an odd thing to have gotten better at but here we are.

I said: you would have been twenty-four. I said: I am twenty-four and it is a good age. I said: this year I have Room 108 and the book and Pilsen and Claudia's dried chiles and the cast iron and I think you would have had opinions about all of it and I miss the opinions more than I can put into words. I said the words anyway. That is what April 11th is.

Went to Nar-Anon in the evening. Pat was there. He asked how I was. I said it is her birthday. He nodded. He had made the oatmeal raisin cookies. We ate them during the break and he told me about a difficult week and I listened and we drove home in separate cars through the April dark and that was the whole of it. The ritual is complete. The candle was burned. The eggs were made. The cookies were shared. Jess Papalardo would have been twenty-four.

Made a batch of cardamom rice pudding that night when I got home from Nar-Anon — not the arroz con leche, something different, with whole milk and basmati rice and cardamom and rosewater and a handful of dried apricots. Under two dollars. I ate it warm from the pot at eleven PM at the kitchen table and the cardamom smelled exactly right for April, for this specific hour, for ending this day gently. Some days you get to be both in the grief and in the sensory comfort of warm food simultaneously. Both are true. Both are yours.

The cardamom rice pudding I made that night came from the same impulse that leads me to Bircher Muesli when I need something to land me back in my body — something soaked and slow and milk-sweet, where the work is mostly waiting and the result is gentler than you deserve. This Homemade Bircher Muesli is what I come back to when I want that same quality: grain softened in whole milk overnight, apple grated in, a little honey, a little warmth. You make it before you go to sleep and it is waiting for you in the morning, which is its own kind of kindness on days after April 11th.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes (overnight soak) | Total Time: 8 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1 cup whole milk (plus more to loosen in the morning)
1/2 cup plain full-fat yogurt
1 medium apple, grated (skin on)
2 tablespoons honey
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
2 tablespoons raisins or dried apricots, roughly chopped
2 tablespoons chopped toasted walnuts or pecans, for serving
Fresh fruit or a drizzle of honey, for serving

Instructions

Combine. In a medium bowl or jar, stir together the rolled oats, whole milk, yogurt, honey, vanilla, and cardamom until fully mixed.
Add the apple and fruit. Grate the apple directly into the bowl (juices and all) and stir in the dried apricots or raisins. The apple’s natural moisture and pectin help bind everything together overnight.
Refrigerate. Cover the bowl tightly with a lid or plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 6 hours, or overnight. The oats will absorb the liquid and soften completely — no cooking required.
Adjust in the morning. Remove from the refrigerator. If the muesli has thickened too much, stir in a splash of cold milk until it reaches a creamy, porridge-like consistency.
Serve. Spoon into bowls and top with toasted walnuts or pecans and fresh fruit. Add an extra drizzle of honey if the day calls for it. Eat warm or cold — both are right.

Nutrition (per serving)

Homemade Bircher Muesli — What You Make When the Night Needs Gentling