Oatmeal Fudge Bars

I have held an affinity for houses since I was young. Growing up, I had recurring dreams of houses filled with endless rooms. I would explore them, opening door after door, impatient to see what the next one held, disappointed when I finally awoke. Nowadays, my love for houses reveals itself in less subtle manners. Along with a standing date to watch This Old House on Sunday mornings, I regularly go on home tours for no reason other than a curiosity to know what's inside. In the summer, my boyfriend and I go on long walks around the lakes scattering our Minnesotan city. The lake walks are our compromise; he prefers to take in the beauty of nature and I prefer to take in the beauty of the lakefront properties. 

I imagine the lives held within those four walls—what the mothers hope, what the fathers fear, what the children dream.

Now that I've recently started the search for a home, the excitement I've kindled has faded somewhat as the reality has sunk in. The market is difficult, the region I'm searching is one of the highest priced in the city, and the houses I can afford will need a lot of love. I understood there would be compromises, but it wasn't until I was actually faced with the tangible decisions that I realized how difficult this process would become. Do I choose the house with the beautiful yard, but disappointingly tiny kitchen? The house with the pleasing fit and finish, but dysfunctional layout? While a good coat of paint can go a long way, it cannot cover up the unchangeable.

Right now I am looking for a beautiful place, a beautiful place to grow my family, a beautiful place that needs only a good coat of paint and little else. It doesn't exist—not for me and not right now—which has been a hard realization to swallow. Adjusting my expectations has left me with complicated feelings, especially when reality still comes at such a high price.

A house doesn't make a home, as my mother reminds me. And she's right, of course. It will be up to me to make a place beautiful, to put in the love and the work and the hope, to build a home.

Oatmeal Fudge Bars are a sweet, chewy bar to satisfy your cookie cravings. The bars feature rich dark chocolate sandwiched between chewy oatmeal cookie layers. The cookie layers are more pronounced than the chocolate, creating a balance between flavors. Enjoy with a tall glass of milk.

One Year Ago: Quick Puff Pastry & Traditional Challah
Two Years Ago: Chocolate Orange Cake & Blackberry Coconut Scones
Three Years Ago: Almond Cake & Peanut Butter Chocolate Cake
Four Years Ago:  Blueberry Lemon Pancakes, Lavender Lemon Shortbread, Lemon Pudding Cake, & Chocolate Oat Muffins
Five Years Ago: Rosemary Focaccia, Swedish Visiting Cake, Chocolate Toffee Scones, & Rosemary Crackers
Six Years Ago: Lemon Chocolate Tart, Coconut Cream Cupcakes, Yeasted Waffles, & Vanilla Almond Cupcakes

Oatmeal Fudge Bars

Yields 16 servings

Oatmeal Bar
1/2 cup (113 grams) butter
1 cup (200 grams) brown sugar, packed
1 large egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups (180 grams) all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 cups (170 grams) old-fashioned oats

Chocolate Filling
5 ounces (140 grams) semisweet chocolate, roughly chopped
1/3 cup (80 mL) heavy cream or full-fat coconut milk
1/2 teaspoon espresso powder, optional

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (180 degrees C). Line an 8 x 8-inch pan with parchment paper and lightly grease.

In a medium bowl, beat together butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in egg and vanilla until uniform. Gradually add flour, baking soda, salt, and oats, mixing until uniform. Press 2/3 of the dough into the prepared pan evenly. Set aside the remaining 1/3 of dough.

In a microwaveable safe bowl, combine roughly chopped chocolate, heavy cream, and espresso powder.  Heat in 30-second increments in the microwave, stirring between each increment until smooth. Pour over dough and smooth.

Crumble remaining 1/3 dough over the top and bake for 25-30 minutes, or until lightly browned. Cool completely before cutting and serving.

Fig Oatmeal Bars

I escaped to the mountains. An end of summer restlessness has been holding me close the last few weeks, and I needed an escape before the school year started up again. A breath of fresh mountain air and a few handfuls of ripe mountain cherries felt like the cure.  As someone who organizes the minute details of daily life, purchasing two last minute plane tickets to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains was not in the plan, but I am trying to teach myself that life doesn't need to be so scripted. 

When we reached the mountains, we hiked away from routine and took a step into the unfamiliar. We walked along a well trodden path only a few feet wide for miles, a ledge on one side and a rock face on the other. We filled our hands with cold running water from glacial runoff, drinking deeply.  We rested on boulders as large as cars, feeling the sharpness of the sun's warmth at high altitude. We were privy to an impromptu guided tour from a mountain goat, who preferred the ease of the path to the steepness of the cliffs.

The view was the greatest of nature's design, of distant snow-topped peaks, of deep forested valleys, of wildflowers within an arm's reach. We stopped for lunch on the top of the world, sitting in silence and eating our way through PB & J sandwiches and fig oatmeal bars. Some moments, I've found, need few words.

Fig Oatmeal Bars make for a sweet, filling snack. Fresh figs are cooked down with brown sugar into a compote and subtly flavored with balsamic vinegar and vanilla. The compote is spread over an oatmeal base and baked until golden. The bars cut beautifully and hold together well without breaking apart or leaving crumbs everywhere. These bars are perfect for packing for a snack on the go and eating wherever life leads you. 

One Year Ago: Iced Matcha Coconut Latte 
Two Years Ago: Salted Chocolate Chunk Cookies and Citrus Zucchini Muffins
Three Years Ago: Date Flapjacks & Nordic Pancake Cake
Four Years Ago: Rum Raisin Oatmeal Cookies, Banana Rum Bread, & Vanilla Cardamom Peach Pie
Five Years Ago: Chocolate Malt Cupcakes, Coconut Pancakes, Rocky Road Cookies, & Chocolate Beet Cake
Six Years Ago: Chocolate Prune Cake, Espresso Chocolate Chip Shortbread, & Blueberry Muffins

Fig Oatmeal Bars

Yields 8 x 8-inch pan

Fig Compote
1 lb (450 grams) ripe figs, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup (100 grams) brown sugar, packed
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar (optional)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Oatmeal Base
1/3 cup (70 grams) coconut oil, liquid state
1/2 cup (100 grams) brown sugar, packed
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1  cup (120 grams) all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups (135 grams) old fashioned oats
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt

In a large saucepan, bring the chopped figs and brown sugar to a boil over medium-high heat. There is no need to add liquids because the figs will release a considerable amount of juice. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 15-20 minutes, or until figs soften and compote thickens. Remove from heat and set aside. 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (180 degrees C). Lightly grease an 8 x 8-inch pan.

In a large mixing bowl, stir together coconut oil and brown sugar until uniform. Add the egg and vanilla, mixing until blended. Stir in the flour, oats, cinnamon, baking soda, and salt. The batter will be slightly sticky. Using greased hands, press 2/3 of the dough into the bottom of the prepared pan. Spread fig compote evenly over the top. Sprinkle the remaining 1/3 of the dough evenly on top.

Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until lightly browned. Allow to cool slightly in the pan before serving.

Blueberry Oat Crumble Muffins

I spent the last week fitting my one bedroom apartment into boxes. Sealed with packing tape and stacked into tall, quivering towers, they fill a small 10" by 10" storage unit, awaiting next month's big move. I am displaced until then, spending time with family and traveling in the interim. With a job offer to teach in another location, it is time to leave the small town life for a bustling city. This change, however, is more bittersweet than expected. Though I resisted it madly in the beginning, this small town of mine—population 3,000—grew on me.  

We put down roots whether or not we mean to; we find a way to feel like we belong.

I will miss many things about this place. The two minute commute to work each morning. The two minute commute to anywhere in town. The honor system farmer's market (a table of fresh vegetables sits alone in a vacant parking lot, with a box to collect payment. If only everywhere could be so honest). The smells emanating from the food factory in the center of town (some days, the pervasive scent of dog food—blech—but on the rare days it smells like chocolate or gumdrops, it feels as if Willy Wonka's factory is just down the street). The realization that living in a small town does not mean you live a small life. 

But, most of all, I will miss the people. The welcoming, caring, animated souls who made this place home for the last two years.

When I first arrived to this town, I nervously baked up a batch of granola bars, wondering if I had made the right decision in moving here. Oats were (and are) a comfort food to me, familiarity in a world that was both strange and new. It seemed fitting that the last pan to come out of my small apartment kitchen were these oat-filled muffins. They are a means to say goodbye and turn the page on a new chapter in my life.

Blueberry Oat Crumble Muffins are bursting with blueberries and a bright aroma. Oats, which are grounded down to a flour, give a hearty flavor to the final product. Topped with a cinnamon crumble, the muffins are complete. Serve with a spread of butter or simply eat them plain, both methods will do just fine.

One Year Ago: Mango Margarita, Chocolate Cacao Nib Banana Bread, and Chocolate Espresso Custard
Two Years Ago: Rhubarb Vanilla Pound Cake, Boozy Margarita Lime Cake, Double Chocolate Muffins, and Rhubarb Ginger Bars
Three Years Ago: Toffee Chocolate Chip Cookies, Coconut Nutmeg Pudding, Lavender Lemonade, Vegan Chocolate Cupcakes, and Cherry Almond Granola
Four Years Ago: Honey Peach Boba Tea, Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookies, Garlic Parmesan Pull-Apart Bread, and Cinnamon Raisin Baked French Toast
Five Years Ago: Bittersweet Chocolate Sherbet, Rhubarb Jam, and Tapioca Pudding

Blueberry Oat Crumble Muffins

Yields 1 dozen muffins

Blueberry Oat Muffins
1/4 cup (50 grams) coconut oil, liquid state
1/2 cup (100 grams) granulated sugar
1/4 cup (50 grams) brown sugar, packed
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup (68 grams) oat flour *
3/4 cup (95 grams) all-purpose flour
3/4 cup (177 ml) milk
6 ounces (170 grams) fresh blueberries

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (180 degrees C). Line a muffin tin with paper liners.

In a large mixing bowl, beat the coconut oil and sugars until uniform. Beat in the egg and vanilla. Gradually add the dry ingredients (cinnamon, baking powder, salt, oat flour, all-purpose flour) alternatively with the milk until smooth. Stir in the fresh blueberries. Set aside.

Oat Crumble Topping
2 tablespoons coconut oil, liquid state
2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
1/4 cup (30 grams) all-purpose flour
1/2 cup (45 grams) old fashioned oats
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

In a small bowl, mix together all crumble ingredients until uniform.

Fill each muffin liner 3/4 full of batter. Sprinkle approximately 1 tablespoon of crumble topping on each and bake for 18-22 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

* To make oat flour, place old fashioned oats in a food processor and process until oats are a fine powder.