Toasted Oatmeal with Strawberry Chia Jam and Coconut Whipped Cream

August. The strange in-between month — summer still but September whispering, the light already changing, the evenings arriving a minute earlier each day like a polite guest who keeps showing up before you're ready. I feel September in my body. Thirty-eight years of teaching have wired me to anticipate the school year the way migratory birds anticipate south. The classroom is pulling. The books are calling. The red pens are ready.

But first: August cooking. I made peach jam this week from peaches I bought at a farmstand on the North Shore, peaches so ripe they bruised when you looked at them hard, which is the only kind of peach worth buying. Peach jam is not Ashkenazi. Peach jam is American South, or maybe English countryside, or maybe simply universal — every culture with peaches makes jam, because jam is the human answer to the fact that peaches are perfect for two weeks and then gone, and we cannot accept the gone, so we preserve. We put them in jars. We seal the lids. We keep summer on a shelf and open it in January and pretend the peach is still warm.

Miriam called on Friday with news from Tel Aviv: her daughter — my niece Noa — is pregnant. Miriam's first grandchild. My sister will be a grandmother. I screamed. Literally screamed, in the kitchen, and Marvin came running from his recliner with the alarmed speed of a man who thought something had fallen. "Miriam's going to be a grandmother," I said. He said, "That's wonderful. I thought you'd dropped the soup." The soup was fine. The news was better than the soup.

I called Miriam back and we talked for an hour — not about the baby specifically, because it is early and Miriam is superstitious in the way that all Jewish mothers of her generation are superstitious (you do not celebrate too early; you do not name the baby before it's born; you do not tempt the evil eye with excessive joy). We talked about what it means to become grandmothers, both of us, on either side of the world — me with my two on Long Island, her with one on the way in Tel Aviv. How our mother became a grandmother and never quite believed it, because Sylvia could not reconcile the woman she was — young, fierce, indestructible — with the grandmother she had become, which is softer, which is more vulnerable, which is a woman who has given hostages to fortune in the form of small people she loves without limit.

The peach jam set perfectly. Twelve jars on the counter, glowing amber, waiting for winter. Miriam will be a grandmother. The chain extends. The chain extends to Tel Aviv and Long Island and everywhere the Rosen women have gone, carrying recipes and stubbornness and the absolute conviction that food is love is survival is everything.

The week I spent standing over a pot of peach jam — watching it bubble and thicken, listening for the set, lining up those twelve glowing jars on the counter — reminded me that the impulse to preserve something beautiful is at the heart of so much of what we cook. When Miriam called with news of Noa’s baby, I felt that same impulse: hold this, seal it, keep it. This oatmeal is my tribute to that feeling — toasted and warm, crowned with a quick chia jam that captures fruit at its peak, the same way I’d want to capture this summer, this news, this chain that keeps extending.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

For the Strawberry Chia Jam:
1 cup fresh or frozen strawberries, hulled and roughly chopped
1 tablespoon maple syrup or honey
1 1/2 tablespoons chia seeds
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
For the Toasted Oatmeal:
1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
2 cups water (or milk of choice)
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon unsalted butter or coconut oil
For the Coconut Whipped Cream:
1 can (13.5 oz) full-fat coconut milk, refrigerated overnight
1–2 teaspoons maple syrup
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
To Serve:
Fresh strawberries, sliced
Pinch of flaky salt (optional)

Instructions

Make the chia jam. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the strawberries and maple syrup. Cook, stirring occasionally and mashing the berries with a fork, until the mixture is soft and saucy, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat, stir in the chia seeds and lemon juice, and let sit for 10 minutes until thickened. Transfer to a jar if making ahead.
Toast the oats. In a medium dry saucepan over medium heat, add the rolled oats. Toast, stirring frequently, until the oats are fragrant and lightly golden, about 3–4 minutes. Watch carefully — they go from golden to too dark quickly.
Cook the oatmeal. Add the water (or milk), salt, and butter or coconut oil to the toasted oats. Bring to a gentle boil, then reduce heat and simmer, stirring often, until the oats are creamy and most of the liquid is absorbed, about 5–7 minutes. Stir in vanilla extract. Add a splash more liquid if you prefer a looser consistency.
Make the coconut whipped cream. Open the refrigerated can of coconut milk without shaking it. Scoop out the thick cream that has risen to the top, leaving the liquid behind. Beat with a hand mixer or whisk until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Sweeten with maple syrup and vanilla.
Assemble the bowls. Divide the toasted oatmeal between two bowls. Spoon a generous dollop of strawberry chia jam over the top, followed by a cloud of coconut whipped cream. Finish with fresh sliced strawberries and a pinch of flaky salt if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Toasted Oatmeal with Strawberry Chia Jam and Coconut Whipped Cream — A Jar of Summer, Opened at Breakfast