The Mother of All Grains and a Cake Doughnut.

Quinoa. It seems to be everywhere you look.

OK, it's everywhere I look.

It's the newest, hottest grain among food geeks like myself. Anytime you are referring to a grain as "new" and "hot" you know you are a tremendous food geek. Let's just get the namecalling out of the way now.

Going gluten free, I am always looking for good nutrition-filled substitutes for the powerhouse that wheat is. Wheat may be filled with fiber, protein and vitamins, but it is toxic to 3 out of 4 members of my family. And possibly the 4th, but he can hold out a lot longer than I did. Trust me.

 Quinoa is called "the mother of all grains" by Incans. Remember your ancient world history class in college? Pre-Columbian Andeans were big on quinoa. It has a very high protein content, high fiber, and for vegetarians, it is a complete protein source. That means it has perfectly balanced amino acids in addition to the protein and fiber. If you have ever read about other cultures seeming to survive on rice and beans, or serving them together at every meal, this is another example of a prefect food. Together they provide everything, structure wise, that a veg. would eat. Told you, food geek.

OK Susi, in plain English please? I ate rice and beans for 1 month for lunch, everyday. I felt great, I didn't feel hungry. I didn't eat as many sweets. I didn't feel bogged down. I didn't miss meat at all. And it tasted good to me. Complete food source. Quinoa, same thing. God knew what he was doing when he created quinoa.

Enter Tangerine, Quinoa and Lentil Salad. Throw in a legume like lentils, and you have a "super" meal. I may not eat again until Tuesday. This salad was lovely, because of the very few, but strongly flavored ingredients. Tangerine juice that was soaked up by the lentils and quinoa. Quinoa and lentils have the unique ability to absorb whatever flavor you throw at them. Tangerine segments providing a bit of sweet, whole garlic cloves simmered in the lentils that mellow with cooking, and a handful of cilantro leaves thrown in after it cooled provided a fragrant salad. Even my daughter tried it, she loves quinoa - but only when it is hot. Now she likes it cold. Imagine the possibilities - red onions, jicama, apples, lemons, grapes, oranges, cantaloupe, potatos, peaches - not together, but separate in this salad. And almost zero fat. Notice there was no oil added........

But this morning I didn't want salad for breakfast. I wanted something breakfast-y. I have oatmeal every morning. Not that mush that we grew up with that contained rolled oat flakes and made a noticeable "sploodooshy" sound as it enticingly came off the spoon. Bleh. Real oatmeal. Irish Steel Cut Oats. Whole oats, chopped in half, cooked slightly so there is a pop and slight crunch when you eat them. Sprinkled with cream, dotted with butter, and topped occasionally with almonds, raisins, or bananas. Why so bland for a self-professed food dork? The simplicity. Food doesn't need to be complicated to taste good, and more often than not, being able to experience individual flavors is very pleasing.

So imagine my surprise when I opened the cookbook and saw a recipe for fried oatmeal. Really? I remember having fried cornmeal once, topped with maple syrup and butter and it was pretty good. Fried polenta topped with marinara sauce and cheese - yum! But fried oatmeal? Not so much. But, I'm not doing this to eat the same old food - so I didn't think about it, I just did it. Kind of like the first time you eat sashimi.

To be fair, it DID smell alot better than sashimi. Melting butter in a skillet, yum. Sizzling slices of steel cut oatmeal in fried butter - even more yum! I flipped the slices and an aroma came out of the pan I couldn't name.....yes, this was a good thing. After plating it, I really gave it a good smell. Over and over. It smelled like something out of a bakery. My daughter and I smelled it, and decided it was a cross between a cake doughnut and french toast. Really. You have to believe me. I know smells. This was amazing, and it came from oatmeal.

I topped the slices with a sautee of soaked raisins, almonds and bananas and a dollop of cream cooked in a hot pan and a sprinkle of raw Turbinado sugar. I really didn't know what to expect. But it tasted like french toast. Smelled like a doughnut. French toast, good. Doughnut, good. For someone who was sad about the fact that she couldn't have a cake doughnut or french toast again - um, this will do very nicely! I almost didn't finish it, because I didn't want it to end. Next time, I will coat the oatmeal slices in egg and milk first, and see what happens. Good things, I am sure of it.