Brent Piaskoski is hilarious. You likely don’t know him, but your kids probably watch one of the shows he does for the Family channel in Canada.

When Brent and I used to do standup comedy together 20 years ago, he said something about Canadian Thanksgiving that I’ve never forgotten.

Brent talked about people from the US who would say “Thanksgiving? I don’t remember any Canadian pilgrims.”

Brent would say…

Sure… Thanksgiving is when Canadians gather with their family and their friends, and they give thanks… that they’re not Americans.

Happy Turkey Day, Canada.

No, I didn’t really have dinner with Seth Godin.  (But Seth, pick a day – I know a cool spot in Brooklyn Heights.)  But my imagination did.  Come sit at the table with us for a minute.

Yesterday, Seth published a post that really struck a chord with me, and sent my mind back to memories of what I think was one of the greatest restaurants of all time.

The post is called Three Things Clients and Customers Want, and it explains brilliantly how focusing solely on results isn’t necessarily the best strategy.  In his list of the “three things,” Seth says,

3. Ego. Is it nice to feel important? You bet. When you greet us at the door with a glass of white wine, put our name in the lobby of the hotel, actually treat us better than anyone else does (not just promise it, but do it)…

I have first-hand experience with this one, and it was all I could think about yesterday morning.

My all-time favorite restaurant in the world was in my hometown – Toronto – and was called “Vittorio’s Osteria.”  The head chef was Vittorio Masi, one of Canada’s most renowned Italian chefs,  called “a master of culinary taste” by the Toronto Star newspaper. Vittorio’s second restaurant was an open-concept; every one of the twenty tables table had a view of the kitchen, and you could see the master cooking, consuming and cursing up a storm as only Vittorio could.  The waiters would all sing Italian songs at the top of their lungs as they moved around the place, greet the person you were with as “bella” and act as though they were going to steal her away from you with their European charms.  The place was always festive, it always felt like family, and it was always fun.

…and, it was always full.

Because Vittorio (who passed in 2002 of a heart attack) was regarded in Toronto much the same way Emeril Lagasse and Bobby Flay would be looked upon many years later, showing up without a reservation was usually futile.

But I’ll never forget the night that made Vittorio’s my favorite restaurant in the world; the memory was tweaked again yesterday when I read Seth’s post.  Saturday night in the summer, place was packed, I lived nearby and showed up on a whim to see if I could get a plate of pasta (Vittorio was in the habit of making whatever he felt like), when I saw a line of 20 or so people out the door.  Knowing it would be two hours before I could sit down, I decided it was worth the wait; yes, the food was that good.

It wasn’t long before Vittorio spotted the line, and came wandering out with some glasses, and a couple of bottles of wine.  In between juggling the demands of the kitchen, and taking time to talk with the customers inside, Vittorio was chef-turned-host-turned-sommelier as he treated the sidewalk as just another table – his table, that he was enjoying taking care of personally. He’d come out to chat, talk about food, wine, fishing, whatever, while keeping our glasses filled with some of the best wine I’d ever tasted, all on the house.  He appreciated the loyalty of a customer who would be happy to wait two hours for a table, and knew that we would appreciate being taken care of like no other restaurant ever had.

I’ve retold the story about that night on his sidewalk a few hundred times; everywhere I’ve ever lived, I’ve recounted that night in inevitable “best meal you ever ate” conversations, and I’ve tried to find another place like it.

When I think of that night, sometimes I recall the part of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” when Scrooge is taken by the Ghost of Christmas Past to a party thrown by his old boss, Fezziwig.  Swept up in the glee of the event, the ghost asks, “Fezziwig spent but a small amount of your mortal money.  Is it so much that he deserves this praise?”  Scrooge goes on to reply, “the happiness he gives is quite as great as if it had cost a fortune.”

Spirits, both real and imagined, have many lessons to teach us indeed.

Based on the last post, it sure seemed like a great idea, didn’t it?

Slow-cooked steel-cut oats. Done overnight so they’re basically effortless, and supremely nutritious.

…just forgot the “delicious” part.  Hell, I forgot the “edible” part with this first attempt.

I took a reciple from Alton Brown from Food Network and reworked it a touch, based on the availability of my ingredients on a holiday Monday, and the comments of people who had commented on the recipe.

So here’s what I ended up trying:

1 cup Blue Menu Steel Cut Oats
4 cups water
3/4 cup milk
1 cup raisins
1 cup of a cranberry/nut mixture

Set the slow cooker on “low”, leave for 8-9 hours.

Looks like delicious chili. Trouble is, it's oatmeal.

Do yourself a favour: Don’t try this at home.  I don’t even think the dog wants this.   Most noticeable of its many faults (to both me and my neighbours) was the fact that the edges had burned. That’s easily fixed, I’ll just leave it on for less time next time.  After all, this is an experiment, and we change things the next time around based on our findings from the most recent attempts.  (Right?)

What’s NOT easily fixable is the taste. I think if I’m going to include raisins, it should maybe be a half cup, TOPS.  All I can taste is hot, burnt, reconstituted grapes…and that’s basically the only taste that comes out of the bowl.

The whole episode was not a complete loss, however. As predicted, the texture of the parts that weren’t burnt was to die for. Creamy goodness that would have been incredibly satisfying if my taste buds had all been destroyed in some kind of horrible accident.

I think Attempt #2 will include some combination of apple and either maple syrup or cinnamon.

Any suggestions?

Back in my days as a nutritional consultant with The Rob Nevins Plan (what’s now called ‘The Skinny Switch Secret’), I learned how great steel-cut oats are for you.  High fibre, low glycemic index… the down side was cooking them.  If you thought brown rice was a pain in the ass, you’re in for a new level of Hell with steel-cut oats.

Then I stumbled across an article online about cooking steel-cut oats (sometimes called Irish Oatmeal) in a slow cooker. The article claimed that the process gave you all the creamy goodness, without all the hassle – turn it on, go to bed, wake up and turn it off!  That’s exactly my speed!

Then I set about trying to find exactly the right recipe, because there are dozens of them.  That’s where this post (first in a series) comes in, as I try to find the right combo.

I should say at this point that with traditional oatmeal (the instant kind in the envelopes), I’m a huge fan of two flavours: Apple & Cinnamon, and Raisin & Brown Sugar.  But for breakfast food, comparing steel-cut oats to instant oatmeal is like putting a Mercedes up against a Yugo.  So with your help, I’m going to stumble around until I find the right recipe.

Let’s dig in!

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