Growing Up + A Breakfast of Champs
Don't Look at Me Like That + Peanut Butter-Chia-Sesame Granola
I’ve found my reading groove again and nothing feels better! Lately I’ve spent literal days on my (aptly-named) daybed tearing through books, letting the summer heat descend and render me virtually immobile. The glory of seasonal reading knows no bounds! This week: a book about a girl coming of age in London, plus a snack to bake and then eat while reading.
Read
Don’t Look at Me Like That by Diana Athill, pub. 1967
Buy: New York Review of Books or any used bookstore
It’s no understatement to call Diana Athill a legend: Fifty-plus years spent as an editor of some of the finest minds (Simone de Beauvoir, Philip Roth, Norman Mailer) in the first half of the 20th century is no small feat for anyone, let alone a woman, during that time. She didn’t have kids and didn’t regret it. When she died in 2019, at age 101, she’d published dozens of books — mostly memoir, and one sole novel with a piquant, memorable title (and excellent cover to match): Don’t Look at Me Like That.
Set in England in the ‘50s, it follows Meg, an awkward high schooler from a working class, religious family whose sole connection to money, culture and high society is via her school friend, Roxane Weaver. Meg spends ample time at the Weaver compound, attending balls in borrowed dresses and observing the Weavers from a distance, as Mrs. Weaver (aka Dodo) pulls social strings, relentlessly judges others and subtly controls her daughter – specifically whom she marries. Mrs. W has her eye on one specific boy: Dick Sherlock, a slender, well-bred charmer, an old friend of Roxane’s.
At the beginning, Meg considers herself unlikable and is a bit fuzzy, character-wise. She feels she doesn’t have the ability to connect socially due to her upbringing and often acts as a wallflower, allowing Roxane to lead the way. Thankfully, though high school is stultifying, it’s also temporary. Post-graduation, and after a stint at art school in Oxford, Meg moves to London, where everything coalesces: She finds a shared house with other young people and gets a job as an illustrator. She slowly begins to find herself, defining her style – both fashion and design – and emerging from the blurriness of her youth. She realizes she’s actually quite beautiful, and that she has an immediate effect on men. It’s a real joy to witness this girl, once seemingly lost and self-conscious, grow up. I realized while reading this novel that I don’t often read about women in their early 20s; it’s easy to forget the pain of youth in the face of the assuredness and rhythm of adulthood (not that it’s all rosy, of course), and a fun reminder of the growth that being in your 20s brings.
Fast forward a bit: Roxane and Dick marry, Meg continues to shine and individuate and, yes, flail, and this is when the real drama starts. I don’t want to give too much away, but it rhymes with ‘shmaffair.’ Athill must’ve experienced something like this herself, because she writes it with force, tension and lust. Our heroine: What has she done?! All we can do is watch – sensing the inevitable but all too aware of the realities of such transgressions. Despite its sort-of slow start, the book really picks up about a third of the way in and I ended up loving it for its candid take on early womanhood, friendship and family. (After finishing I immediately bought Athill’s last memoir, Somewhere Towards the End, about aging and the end of life. It looks amazing.)
Eat
At Botanica we make extremely good granola – we always have it on hand at home. The other week I realized we’d run out and literally threw a bunch of ingredients into a bowl to make a quick replacement – zero attachment, zero recipe-writing. The thing is…it ended up being really good. Like, it tasted like a super-caramelized peanut butter cookie, but deconstructed – and healthy! I decided to make it again this week, this time recording the steps, and have been eating it by the handful.
Notes:
Peanut butter gets a lot of hate in the wellness world due to moldy peanuts, but I continue to love it anyway. You can swap another nut / seed butter for the peanut butter, though, if you want (almond butter and tahini would both be great).
I use another rogue, maligned hippie ingredient here: textured vegetable protein. I’d never even heard of this stuff before a couple months ago, when Jess Damuck mentioned it in her book, Health Nut. It’s a crunchy condiment (?) made of defatted soy flour and is an excellent protein source with a perfect texture for granola. Again, you can leave it out or sub something else (a nut, more oats or sesame seeds, etc) but it’s sort of weird and fun to play with. Don’t be scared of soy!
Peanut Butter-Chia-Sesame Granola
Makes 1 sheet tray, or roughly 4 cups
3 cups rolled oats (not quick-cooking; I used gf oats here)
2 tablespoons chia seeds
¼ cup shredded coconut
¼ cup cacao nibs
¼ cup sesame seeds (untoasted)
½ cup TVP (I used Bob’s Red Mill)
½ cup plus 2 tablespoons creamy, natural peanut butter (natural meaning unsweetened with no extra oils)
¼ cup evoo
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons maple syrup
Pinch of salt (I used CAP The Pink Mountain Salt)
Preheat your oven to 350F and line a baking sheet with parchment. In a large bowl, mix all of the dry ingredients. In a smaller bowl, whisk the wet ingredients (pb, evoo, maple and salt). Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and mix very well until incorporated. Tip the mixture onto your baking sheet and pack it down tightly with the back of a spoon or spatula, then bake for 30 minutes, rotating and mixing once at around 15 minutes. Use your nose as your guide – it will start smelling delicious, nutty and toasty when it’s just about ready. Let the granola cool and crisp up on your baking sheet, then transfer to a glass jar where it’ll keep for weeks!
Love the title of the book, and the story sounds truly fascinating. Reading about relationship dynamics such as this truly can feel boundless. I love granola.