Mush

Despite the size of my previous habits I have become a healthy person. Perhaps because of them. Cause and effect (Clarice).

There are indications beyond the lack of my death that support or provide evidence as to this change. Too many to list in any detail here, but still. But still, in all of life and our passage through it small objects or occurrences can describe far greater arcs. For instance, and in my case, Mush.

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Good idea actually, everyone in America should eat it. The mornings would be best as it is designed to be a type of breakfast nutrient, but I often take a little more of it directly from the jar in my refrigerator late in the evening. Breakfast and supper’s dessert. A top and tail of any good day.

It is, from the outside, woman food. That’s what I thought when a woman I know well explained to me that another woman, the first woman’s nutritionist, advised her to begin eating it and immediately.

Let us slide the recipe in and quickly and not lose the attention of anyone who might be only marginal. No need to worry. It’s simple:

Get a pint jar with a screw lid. Or two pints. Put in some rolled oats, almond milk and plain yogurt in equal amounts until the jar is three quarters full. Add chia seeds (no idea, but readily available at the market if they have them at the market available to you) and then chop up some berries or if the berries you have to hand are small enough add them unchopped until the lid will just about fit, but tight.

Shake it well this jar. Turn it over and over end on end if you’d like. Rapidly, slowly. Put it in the fridge and wait until morning.

The oats swell. Not noticeably, but enough to bulk with the moisture.

You can serve it in a small glass bowl, as though ice-cream to the unwilling (limited portion etc), but I eat it like pizza, over the sink or while walking (albeit around this kitchen. Poorly dressed, hair awry, it’s early).

It’s good. Not in the way of many usual things that are good for you, but in the way of something you want to eat because you want to eat it. And it’s ready when you are. Lasts a day or two before any need to worry as regards its health and safety, probably longer, but it never lasts that long. Too good.

It didn’t have a name. I made up my own in a manner of quiet rebranding to make me feel comfortable that this material was indeed powerful stuff (virile even, although there are no studies).

Mush is what I call it aloud at night when it crosses my mind and I announce (to myself only) that I must make some for the morning’s other man.

It takes two minutes.

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