Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars

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Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars

Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars

Sometimes life saddles us with responsibilities we didn't ask for, never wanted, and couldn't anticipate. Big or small, these responsibilities become our own. Maybe they were never meant to be ours, but we can't help but make them into our own albatrosses to bear.

This morning while settling down on the couch to get some work done, I heard a chirp. At first, I wasn't sure exactly what I heard. It happened again. Chirp chirp. I looked towards the window to spot the bird, but the frame was empty.

Chirp Cheep.

The sound was coming from the fireplace. More specifically, it was echoing inside the flume. With my ear pressed up against the glass pane of the gas fireplace, I confirmed the worst. The little bird was trapped.

And I found myself with a sudden responsibility—to free her.

Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars

I quickly shut off the gas to the fireplace to prevent the heat from the pilot light burning her little feet. Then, I climbed out onto the roof to see how she found her way there in the first place. For whatever reason, the slats on the flume had opened and perched on top was another little bird—her mate—guarding her fiercely. As it turns out, the poor love birds had unfortunately discovered the flume was a terrible place to build a nest and home.

Listening to the desperate chirping of the little birds to one another, I too felt helpless. I wondered whether the bird had fallen and broken a wing; I pictured her singing sad melodies out from the echoing metal of the flume until she reached the end of her time.

The world can be so cruel sometimes.

Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars

I called my mother with the little bird's plight and she helped try to dismantle the gas fireplace so we could reach her. We didn't succeed. As we wondered what would become of her, I sat near the fireplace, as if my empathy could somehow reassure her. Instead, it was the sound of her irregular chirping that reassured me.

The proper people were called in to help rescue the bird. When the flume was finally opened, the living room scattered with pieces from a torn-apart fireplace, there was nothing to be found inside. It was empty. The little bird had managed to fly out from the flume, freeing herself on her own accord.

If I hadn't sat down on the couch, I never would have heard the sound of her small chirp. Her problems would never have become my own. If I hadn't sat down on the couch, her predicament would have remained undiscovered. Yet, the result would have been the same—freedom. The little bird's plight was never meant to be my albatross to bear but, because I turned it into my own, we were both able to revel in her victory.

May I never have to hear another chirp where it doesn't belong again.

Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars

Strawberry Honey Oatmeal Bars are sweet and chewy. The bars bake up soft from the strawberry jam, yet hold together well making them extremely portable. I loved them hot from the oven, where the strawberry jam was thick and warm. However, they are just as good the second day, tasting better than the boxed cereal bars of a similar nature. I used this strawberry balsamic jam and they were fantastic.

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Strawberry Balsamic Jam

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Strawberry Balsamic Jam

Strawberry Balsamic Jam

At the ripe age of twenty-three, I fear I'm becoming an old woman. It's a silly fear, I know. I'm not afraid of growing older (we all must go through it eventually), but I am afraid of skipping my thirties and forties and jumping straight into my sixties.

Over the last couple years, my habits have begun to betray me. I can't remember the last time I went out on a Friday night; and when I did, I was certain to be home before the strike of ten. My mother and I enjoy watching Hot in Cleveland together (and I find myself laughing louder and longer than her). I ask for kitchen appliances and dishware when the holidays roll around. I often wear vintage clothes and, to my dismay, more than once my students have loudly proclaimed I dress like an old lady (you have the same shoes as my grandmother!).

I suppose, in many ways, you could say I am already channeling the spirit of a seventy-five year old woman.

Strawberry Balsamic Jam

Maybe I wouldn't fear becoming an old woman if The Signs hadn't already arrived. As I sat down in the optometrist office last month, my eye doctor broke the news that my eyes were already getting cataracts. I have exactly three old lady veins—two in rather inconspicuous locations—but the last has the unfortunate position of running down the entire length of my nose (which my boyfriend so lovingly pointed out "looks bluer when I'm cold"). And, to spread the icing on the cake, I recently discovered I have laugh lines while tiredly looking at myself in the mirror.

I even talk like an old woman. Just the other night I caught myself telling my mother that I wished pants weren't so low cut and I hoped I could find a pair with a higher waist.

It's like a disease, I tell you. Old womanitis.

Strawberry Balsamic Jam

Despite my frivolous concerns towards aging, when I stumbled upon the quote above by Cassandra Clare, I did feel more at ease about myself. Beauty may fade, but cooking is forever. It's comforting to know that it doesn't matter whether my hair is gray or my hands are gnarled; I can make a mean chocolate chip cookie. In the end, I think that's what matters most. Food brings people together—it's a celebration of life and love.

When it comes down to it, I'd rather my legacy be lovely strawberry jam instead of a history of face lifts.

Strawberry Balsamic Jam

This strawberry jam is thick and sweet. Balsamic vinegar joins strawberries, lending a unique and enhancing flavor. The jam is thickened on the stove top until it reaches your desired consistency. This strawberry jam is perfect to spread on bread, crackers, or drizzle on top of ice cream.

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Sun Dried Tomato, Basil, & Brie Spread

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Sun Dried Tomato, Basil, & Brie Spread

Sun Dried Tomato Basil Brie Spread

This week has been unseasonably warm. So warm, in fact, the Upper Midwest has tossed aside the winter jackets and scarves, burying them deep into the coat closets, opting for shorts and flip-flops instead. Summer in March, if only for a few days. While I've been soaking up the hot weather and warm breezes, running around in flowing skirts, I can't shake the feeling that Mother Nature is going to make me pay for this untimely gift, in some form or another.

Blizzards and ice storms in May? It wouldn't be the first time.

Sun Dried Tomato Basil Brie Spread Sun Dried Tomato Basil Brie Spread

This newly encountered Summer in March is like a Spot the Difference! game in a child's doodle book. The grass is brown and dead. The branches on the trees are stripped bare, without the bright green buds of spring. The neighbor's home still has Christmas lights winding around the railing of the front step. The earliest signs of spring haven't arrived, leaving the appearance of the world still in the midst of winter.

If not for the cars driving past, with the windows rolled down and the music drifting into the street, or the girls suntanning in swimsuits in front yards of neighboring houses, you'd never know it was 80 degrees F outside my window. Summer in March, you are giving me mixed signals.

Sun Dried Tomato Basil Brie Spread

Even so, I've embraced this heatwave by eating the quintessential summer foods. I've taken the cover off the grill. I finally purchased fresh fruits that weren't apples and oranges (Hello strawberries and watermelon! It's been too long). I made frozen yogurt for the very first time. The last few days have been mood healing.

One of my favorite end-of-summer meals is a garden fresh tomato basil pasta with a warm baguette spread with brie cheese. Since summer foods aren't nearly in season, I incorporated this memorable meal in a different way. This Sun Dried Tomato, Basil, & Brie Spread is an homage to those long summer nights, but can (and should) be eaten any day of the year.

Sun Dried Tomato Basil Brie Spread Sun Dried Tomato Basil Brie Spread Sun Dried Tomato Basil Brie Spread

This Sun Dried Tomato, Basil, & Brie Spread couldn't be easier to make (and packs a punch of flavor). With a sprinkling of salt and freshly ground pepper, each ingredient is bright and present. Spread thickly onto a cracker, it makes for a simple-to-make appetizer for dinner parties or it can act as a makeshift meal when you simply don't feel like cooking.

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