Suddenly, as though poured from the sky, people filled the streets of Louviers yesterday, mostly Mamans, scurrying with their progeny to pick up last-minute school clothes and supplies. I could see the anxiety as they hoped against hope they weren’t too late. The occasion? That most special of days, la rentrée, the first day of school.
When children are small, parents accompany them to school, waiting in the playground until the school director slowly calls the name of a teacher, then the name of each child who will be in that teacher’s class for the year. It is a day children live and die for, because whoever is in their class will be their friends for the year.
That happened this morning throughout France. For seniors in high school it happens tomorrow. The scene is different, though I don’t know what it looks like since my daughter – who will start Terminal this year, the equivalent of senior year – would die a thousand deaths if I was anywhere near her school tomorrow morning. She will get herself to school and I will find out sometime tomorrow evening what her year will shape up to be.
Today, the atmosphere at home is one of excitement and light tension, concern about a heavy backpack and upper level chemistry and physics, and what it will be like to study philosophy. Fiona has all her books, her stack of cahiers with thin and thick lines, big and small squares, notebooks of every hue, fountain pens, pencils, white-out pens, erasers, rulers, and more. What remains is planning breakfast.
But actually, that is done too because Fiona is organized. A vegetarian, she is devoted to eating locally, sustainably, and well. She wants everyone and everything to be treated properly, and questions the ethics of eating dairy products. She is French, however, and thus loves butter and cheese, making her choices difficult at times. Nonetheless, tomorrow’s menu is an easy one: fresh baguette, butter, quince jelly and pears from a friends’ garden, a small bowl of granola, and a big bowl of green tea. This, she has decided, will hold her until lunch, give her strength for that philosophy class she so dreads.
In our French/American home, we call a breakfast like this one “Le Petit Déjeuner des Champions.” Cornflakes, eat your heart out!
- cup ½ unsalted butter 125g
- cup ¼ honey 60ml
- 1/4 cup dark brown sugar -- optional 55g
- teaspoon ¼fine sea salt
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 4 cups rolled oats or flakes made from other grains
- 1 cup unsweetened coconut 90g
- cup ¼ sunflower seeds 40g
- 1/3 cup sesame seeds 35g
- 1/3 cup raw almonds 30g
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Preheat the oven to 350F (180C).
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Place the butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. When it has melted enough to cover the bottom of the pan, add the honey and brown sugar and whisk occasionally as the butter melts. When it is fully melted, gently whisk in the salt and vanilla. Remove from the heat.
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Place the grains, coconut, seeds and almonds in a large bowl. Pour the sauce- it may still be very hot, which is fine – over the mixture. Toss until all the ingredients are thoroughly combined, then turn out the granola onto two baking sheets. Spread it out into an even layer and bake in the center of the oven, stirring occasionally, until the granola is golden, 20 to 25 minutes.
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Remove from the heat and let cool, then break up the clumps and transfer to airtight containers and store in a cool spot. The granola will keep well for about 1 month.
