There are fourteen pint jars of raspberry jam staring at me in the basement. Fourteen jars. That’s a lot of jam (and that’s not even mentioning the peach jam, the grape jam, the plum jam, and the rosehip jam). It looks at me, wondering what it will be. And I tell them most will slathered on toast or biscuits over the next several months. And some will be given as gifts
But some will be used today. In a very simple, very delicious breakfast bar.
And this is how it is to be done:
One half cup good butter (or lard, or coconut oil) is set in a sauce pan to melt over low heat. Once that’s been accomplished, the heat’s turned off (it’s done it’s job) and a cup of old fashioned oats is stirred in, along with two tablespoons brown sugar (or honey, or maple syrup) and a half cup flour. That’s the basic list. But, like anything else done in our kitchen, substitutions can and will be made based on what you have on hand and what you’re in the mood to eat. Sometimes I stir in a half cup chopped nuts. Or shredded coconut. Sometimes instead of plain flour, I substitute almond meal. Sometimes for the flour I go fresh ground whole wheat. Some times all-purpose is all I have on hand. Some times I add a half teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg. Sometimes some orange zest.
However or whatever you do, two-thirds of the mixture is taken out and pressed in the bottom of a lightly greased loaf pan (actually, using a strip of parchment paper that goes up two of the sides of the pan works really well with this–helps to get the bars out). A quarter cup of the jam of your choice is spread over that, keeping most of it in the middle, or at least away from the outer edge. The rest of the dough is crumbled in your hand and scattered over the top. The pan is placed in a preheated three hundred and fifty degree oven and baked for twenty-five minutes, or until the jam is bubbly and the top is tan and crispy. The pan is removed from the oven and then left on the counter to cool completely before removing the block, which once removed, is sliced into six even bars.
Now, if you wanted lard to make that and didn’t have any, you can make your own easily enough. Here on the Farm, we have pigs that are known as a Lard Pig-there are several kinds that are. The Guinea Hog. The Kune Kune. And what we have, the Idaho Pasture Pig, which is really more of a mix of kinds. Which works great for us, because the Kune’s produce a little too much lard to meat ratio for our little farm; same as the Guineas. Now. The ones we have (Piggly and Wiggly, #1) are not set to be “harvested” until next Fall, so for now, we’ve gotten our pork from a local farmer who has always been very generous with giving us any extra fat they have on hand. It comes frozen, in a plastic bag. The fat is cut into one inch cubes and set in a large cast iron skillet over low heat. Because, you see, that fat is still just fat. It needs to be rendered to be lard. And the rendering happens when the fat melts and the meat that’s been clinging to it gives up and floats to the top. This is skimmed off and set aside to be put in a casserole or bean pot someday down the line. This goes on and on until the skillet is full to the brim with golden liquid. This is strained and poured into jars and pressure canned for a hundred minutes, or stored in the fridge for a month or so.
There. Now next time you’ll have lard on hand for your breakfast bars.
