Having moved around all my life, I tend to not get too attached to any one place.
Self-preservation, I reckon.
But after nearly a full year away from the place I lived the longest (I get to count my college years too), I find myself missing things about it.
The bucolic landscape and memorable people, to be sure, but know what else?
The baked goods.
These chewy honey-oat-coconut clusters--that often constituted breakfast with lots of coffee and meetings and typing at my unofficial downtown office--are such simple little treats that I'm not sure what took me so long to try to reproduce them down here.
Self-preservation, I reckon.
Charlottesville's honey bunches
Makes 24
Note: While I think I'm close with this recipe (there's not a thing un-delectable about them), they still don't taste exactly like the ones that C'ville Coffee and Java Java make. I always up the salt, because I love the contrast, but that's not it. Should I have whizzed the oats in the mini-prep first for a finer texture? Used clover instead of orange blossom honey? Used an extra quarter cup of flour? If you have the recipe (or test this one and figure out what needs adjusting), please save me from myself. Until then, I will continue to eat and stare at these until the answer reveals itself.
- 1-1/2 cups quick-cooking oats
- 1 cup unsweetened, shredded coconut
- 1/2 tsp. salt (scale it back to 1/4 tsp. if you use salted butter)
- 1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
- 1/2 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
- 1/2 cup light brown sugar
- 1/3 cup honey
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter the sides and bottoms of the wells of a mini-muffin tin.
In a medium mixing bowl, stir together the oats, coconut, salt, cinnamon, and flour.
Unite the butter, sugar, and honey in a small heavy-bottomed saucepan set over medium-low heat and cook until the butter melts and the sugar dissolves. Squeal and dance in place when you realize how easy it is to make life a little more delicious.
Pour this holy triumvirate over your dry ingredients and use a wooden spoon or rubber scraper to create a well-mixed, sticky dough that has every right to be loved just as it is.
Drop heaping teaspoonfuls into each well and cook until tawny on top--about 9-11 minutes, depending on how hot to trot your oven runs.
Let the honey bunches cool (almost) completely before attempting removal. Patience, grasshopper.
Store in a lidded jar or container, and pay yourself $.85 for each one to make it feel like old times.