About twice a month, I make a prettylunch. I devise a mental plan, carve out a break for myself in the middle of the workday, and then seriously disengage for 45 minutes, during which time the most pressing issue is where to stage myInstagram. I chop herbs and break out the flaky salt. I dote on apiece of toast, stage-momming its every spread and sprinkle. It feels like stretching, kinda: calming and restorative. It’s nice! Especially since the other 29 days a month, I eat lunch like a maniac.
Perhaps you recognize this (much more common) midday meal reality, which involves six and a half free minutes and no plan whatsoever. Balance? Cohesion? Please. Instead, whatever I have on hand, in all of its weird and random glory, is going in the same bowl. There is no room for “inspiration” or a “through line.” There is only me, barely able to pry my eyes off Slack for long enough tofry an egg.
The perfect ingredient to have in the pantry on these chaotic days is something simple but flexible, a base that can adapt to fit nearly any vibe. Ideally, it functions whether you’re flush with produce or staring down the dregs of too many condiment jars and little else—the kind of thing that makes fridge-scrounging look, if notpretty,then at least like you made it on purpose. I did not think such an ingredient would appear to me in the grocery store in the form of a very cute illustrated box, but I guess I’d eaten one too many truly lawless meals. The universe intervened and she brought me cream of buckwheat.
Cream of buckwheat is exactly what it sounds like: an alternative to cream of wheat made of whole grain buckwheat and nothing else, making it gluten- and wheat-free. Like its brethren in theporridgefamily, COB is comforting, filling, and gloppy in a good way, with a specific stick-to-your-ribs texture. But the flavor is nuttier and heartier, a little hippie foodesque, which speaks to my Northern Californian sensibilities. A small scoop of the dry stuff goes a long way; on the box of my beloved Pocono brand, it recommends ¼ cup straight from the box per serving, which cooks up into a hefty 1 cup portion after a few minutes on the stove with a bit of water, milk, or stock.
What should you do with your bowl of cooked cream of buckwheat? Therein lies the beauty. This stuff can become anything you want it to be, and go in whatever direction your heart (and refrigerator) feels like taking you. Sweet? Definitely. Go hard with the brown sugar, warming spices, jam, sliced fruit, or toasted nuts. Stir in a scoop of nut butter, shredded coconut,cocoa powder, or chocolate chips. Or, go for any combination of the above. Savory? Of course. Eggs any style are welcome here, as are all vegetables, plus quickly wilted (or even fresh!) greens. Add protein if you want (I like tofu crumbles, shredded pork, or sliced grilled chicken, but anything goes). Top with soy sauce,hot sauce, and/or all the herbs. Above all, add what you have on hand. It’s a vessel for leftovers and miscellaneous bits: endlessly malleable and delightfully warming. Somehow, it makes every jumble of ingredients feel like a real, live lunch.
If you’ve made it this far in my love letter to glop, you deserve to know my ultimate cream of buckwheat hack. When I remember to, I make a double batch of the porridge and save the unused half in the fridge; the next day, Ipancake-ify the leftovers, adding spices, chopped veggies, and grated cheese to the mix before forming it into patties. The cream of buckwheat is so thick and stable that you don’t need to add an egg or flour, and the pucks fry up beautifully in a bit of olive oil to a crispy golden brown exterior (that’s still creamy on the inside). With a little foresight, then, you get two almost-actually-pretty weekday lunches from just one pot—and couple minutes back in your day.
