Mary Oliver (and Breakfast Bars)
Red cranberries and Red Bird
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
–Mary Oliver, from the poem Sometimes
Last night, after a raucous dinner at Emily’s house, Emily, Rebecca, Jordan, Aimee, and I went to see Mary Oliver at Benaroya Hall. I’ve been reading her poems for 20 years, so last night felt like meeting someone I already knew. She read so many perfect poems, each line and word punctuated exactly as it should be. And she’s funny. That comes through on the page, but not with the same immediacy and nuance. At the opening line of her first poem, I cried. Cried just to be there, hearing her praise the small wonders of the world.
Prayer flags in Emily's window
Someone asked which poets inspire and comfort her. She said (and I paraphrase), “Oh…so many. That’s why I read them. And there are lots of poets out there who have technique mastered, but there’s technique, and then there’s content. Lots of good poets are still writing about their mothers and fathers.” I laughed, and took that to mean, “They don’t know how to be astonished.” That’s the gift Mary Oliver (and other writers and artists) give us–they pay attention, they’re astonished, and then they tell about it.
I heard the actress Anna Deveres Smith on NPR yesterday, and Terry Gross asked what audience members were taking away from her new one-woman show. Ms. Smith said (and I paraphrase again), “It’s not really about what they take away. It’s about what they bring. Everyone comes in with their own stories, their own complicated lives. The magic happens when what you’re saying as an artist sparks something in their own story.” I was loudly “amening” in the car. The “telling about it” part, in poetry (or food blogs or paintings) is powerful because it taps into what we’ve already noticed or experienced but haven’t been able to name. Thank you, Mary Oliver, thank you Anna Deveres Smith, and all artists, sages, and prophets who are doing your best to pay attention, be astonished, and tell about it.
Still life in Emily's studio apartment
In case some of you, dear readers, are NOT tuning in for the poetry, here’s something else to keep you on the line. After getting it from the library so many times, I finally bought Nigella Lawson’s Express cookbook, and made these breakfast bars for (you guessed it) the fire station. I sent My Mom’s Chocolate Chip Cookies on Monday, and that was the day a girl scout troop dropped by with a giant box of homemade cookies for the Heroes. So I’m trying to think of things that can sit out at all day and be somewhat healthy.
And here’s a little something I wrote after hearing Mary last night. Fear Not, Oh Captive Audience. I won’t do this to you all the time.
Being Human with Mary Oliver
When asked what kind of animal she’d like to be,
the poet said probably a bird, but I think
I’ll just stay here on my own two legs.
I’ll stay here, too–
slicing cucumbers in the kitchen,
cursing the tangled garden hose,
standing at the crosswalk
with their little hands in mine,
impatient for the light to change
or, some days, hoping it never does.
Nigella Lawson’s Breakfast Bars
Nigella’s recipe didn’t call for honey, but I wanted more sweetness. I didn’t add peanuts, either, because I didn’t have them around and I don’t want the fire station to think I’m incapable of making something without nuts. Mine turned out a tad moister than I think they’re supposed to, so if you don’t add nuts, use 3 cups oats or maybe a little more. I’m definitely making these again, though. They taste wonderful, and are perfect for breakfast when you don’t have time to sit down (let alone read poetry).
1 12 oz. can evaporated milk
3 Tb. honey
2 1/2 c. old fashioned oats
1 c. sweetened flaked coconut
1 c. dried cranberries or cherries
1 c. mixed seeds (pumpkin, sunflower, sesame)
1 c. unsalted peanuts or coarsely chopped pecans or almonds
Preheat oven to 250 and butter a 9 x 13 pan.
Warm evaporated milk in a saucepan and add honey. Remove from heat.
Mix oats, coconut, dried fruit, seeds and nuts in a medium bowl. Add milk mixture and stir until completely coated.
Press mixture into prepared pan and bake for 1 hour. Cool for 15 minutes before cutting into bars.
Loretta knows how to tell about it, for better or for worse
beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. thank you for sharing not only your recipes with us, but your poetry as well. your poem resonates…this preschool year has just ended and i feel a mix of sadness and hopefulness as the years march by. how did 4 years go by so quickly? sarah, you have always been gifted at many things…two of them are in this entry: cooking (duh!) and recording your life (and the lives of the rest of us as well) in poetry form. i can still pull out old volumes of your poetry, photocopied and bound with string!
Sarah, thank you for the richness you are bringing to my days. I love it all - your reflections, your rants, your photography, your recipes, your poetry. My only wish is that there was a button I could push on my keyboard that would magically cause a plate of whatever it is you’ve posted about to appear. Last weekend, my mom and Mike were here. A friend of mine swung by and when I wasn’t home, said she would be back in a few minutes. Mike thought it was you and I was so excited, thinking that perhaps you were bringing me something to sample and I could fire away all my food questions while you were here. Imagine my disappointment when it was not you…..BTW, walking by John’s house, Manny said, “Where did Yancey go?”
My dear friend Lisa R. (who wrote on your Facebook wall earlier today) sent me this Mary Oliver poem some years ago. I still revisit it and often cry. YAY for Mary Oliver!
Mary read Wild Geese last night! I love the line “You do not have to be good.” That’s for me.
Sarah, after reading your post, I went to the bookcase and pulled out the copy of her New and Selected Poems (the one you gave papa 9 yrs ago for his birthday) and took it with my coffee out in the morning sun to start my day. One can never be astonished if one doesn’t notice. I pray my eyes will be wide open today, so maybe I’ll have something to tell about at the end of my day. Sounds like the ritual, we go through with Loretta as we lay down at night with her,and she says “Let talk about it” (the day) over and over and over again. She just can’t begin to fall asleep until she has reminisced about her day. It’s one of my favorite times spent with her as she carefully listens to everything that happened to her that day and pleads, just one more time, “Let’s talk about it.”
Love reading this recap today and what you took away from the evening. Beautiful, simple poem of your own in response too. I like that, image of someone just giving us something to get started with our own work/creative expression/life. Like kindling or a cutting from a plant. sourdough starter. I also notice hardly an adjective in your poem
So clear, so meaningful. I read EVIDENCE poems outloud to myself this morning, felt different today after hearing her. Thinking about our conversation about adjectives this past weekend, spurred on by a Mary Oliver line. I think I’m attracted to her poems because the beautiful and horrible things she witnesses are succinctly described and the focus is how it affects her and her relationship to the world.
My favorite part of the reading was the standing ovation the packed symphony hall gave her for just walking on stage.
O, and these bars look really tasty! Did you put seeds in the them, but no almonds?
xo
Yes.
SO making these this week!
AND, yes, mo was on my flight + when i arrived, i introduced myself and thanked her for the reading the night before. i hesitated a bit, but my belief that good things should always be articulated — even to the famous
— won out.
thanks for your own mo inspired poem. love it.
hey s!
from the beginning here, you don’t have to publish this post OR edit it as you see fit. i wanted to ask these questions, and this seems a good venue.
my friend rach + i made these bars this week and i think my expectation got the best of me because in the end they seemed dry and very…healthy.
obviously, in this case i don’t mean that in a particularly “hip hip hooray healthy!” way. if i wanted to make them sweeter, would you simply add more honey or would you ever make them with sweetened condensed milk instead? any suggestions?
they look amazing, but as they stand, not my favorite snack.
i’d love your feedback/suggestions.
xo
j.
Hi Jordan! Sorry they were disappointing! It’s funny–mine turned out really moist, and I wished they were more dry. Maybe it was the pan? Did you use nuts? Yes, you could use sweetened condensed milk, and they would definitely be sweeter. Or add more honey. If I had made them and had your result, I would probably crumble them into milk and just eat them like cereal…
GREAT feedback sarah! and i think turning them into cereal is a perfect idea.
gracias.
j.
Sooooo….. eating just oats with sweetened condensed milk would be bad, right?
Update: Made these last night with raisins and condensed milk. OMG, SUGAR MADNESS. They are super moist, but way too sweet. Too many raisins. But Jasmine and I are still undecided as to whether we shouldn’t have used sweetened condensed milk. Super delicious though!
and a p.s. When you first posted this recipe, I had none of the ingredients except the oats. Since then, I’ve incorporated nuts and dried fruit into our staples, so it was super easy to pull this off last night. Thanks again!