Reader, I very much intended to write this post about “eating green.” To share with you a favorite recipe, made with ingredients lovingly culled from my garden. To wax poetic—and wane self-satisfied—about the pleasures of living off your land and its leaves. But when I went to the kitchen this morning, what I wanted was something with a little less leaf and a little more starch; and what I did, instead, was make an IKEA bread mix. (Which really is a thing that exists.)
Here’s how it went, and why.
Not long ago, my husband and I were at the New Haven, Connecticut, IKEA. Not that the location is of any importance; apart from the profusion of Yale bumper stickers, we could have been in Brooklyn, or Philadelphia, or, I guess, Paramus. It was an IKEA, with all its things bright and not-terribly beautiful. I’m not quite sure what we came for—or if we left with it—but in any case, we found ourselves at the Marketplace checkout (there are these cookies…), behind a couple buying approximately twelve boxes of “Brödmix Flerkorn.” (See.) Obviously, we were intrigued, and we said as much to the cashier—who informed us that yes, those two came in every Sunday morning for their stock of bread, that maybe it was a church thing. Huh.
We really had no choice but to buy a box of our own, which has since sat untouched on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. Which brings us to today. As per ikea.com, the “key features” of this particular product are: “A full-bodied multigrain bread kit – just add water! Serve with butter and optional toppings.” And that, in essentia, is all there is to it. I added water and stirred, baked for sixty minutes and let cool for ten. So, then? Well, it turned out exactly as you’d imagine an IKEA bread mix would. Not inedible, though certainly not good; just, totally fine—in a fibrous sort of way. Significantly better topped with beurre salé and Bonne Maman (because as long as we’re flying international…).
There’s a metaphor here, to be sure. Something about life’s great ship—destinations and detours and delights found therein; the co-passengers who give shape to our mornings and so give meaning to our lives. But I haven’t had enough coffee to really take it across the finish line, and so instead I’ll just go with: Girl’s gotta eat. She does, I do, and I did.
Greens with dinner, then.