As a child, I was really into cereal.  The sugary brands were generally forbidden by mom, but I’d compensate with a a couple tablespoons of sugar on my Cheerios and eat the stuff whenever I wanted a snack. As I grew up, I decided that granola was probably a lot healthier, but eating the stuff never became the priority of my childhood obsession with cereal.  Nonetheless, for as long as I can remember, there has always been a box of granola, or a bag of it from bulk bins, somewhere in my kitchen.  I never know how old it is, but that doesn’t seem to matter.  The oats and nuts and grains are shellacked in a sweet preservative, petrified in clumps that are destined to scrape my gums, an abrasive against the roof of my mouth as I choke down each bite.  I’m not complaining, really.  It’s a trade off. Granola is a good pain. Sweet and satisfying, hearty and healthy. Then, I tried Zaydie’s. Not the same experience at all.

borrowed from eatingbirdfood.com

First, I want to assure you that I don’t remember ever getting a single kick-back for food blogging. Some food bloggers do it effectively, acquiring high end appliances to test out and talk up.  Me? I talk too much shit. Any business is probably right to be weary of me.  Then, I got a message from Shelley Freed, one half of  Zaydie’s Granola, a small scale Henrico based cereal enterprise. It was a flattering email, asking if I’d try their granola and see if I had anything to say about it. Obviously a form message, delivered to me by mistake, because I’m a raging asshole – totally unworthy of gifts.  And yet, after emailing my address, two bags of granola showed up in the mail. And these weren’t sample size either. Their heft and probable retail value made me wonder immediately what might be my obligation.  Of course, I CANNOT BE BOUGHT, but that’s probably cuz no one’s really tried.  For two bags of granola, I’ll write a blog entry that reflects whatever mood the granola elicits.

I salute Zaydies for their approach to getting exposure.  We bloggers work social media tools to elevate our profiles, and businesses work social media tools (like bloggers) to elevate theirs. It’s a new world and a new granola. Actually, the granola tastes old. Not expired beyond the shelf-life old, but old like the way they used to eat granola back in the day. Old school. Old fashioned. Simple and honest.  The significance of this locally produced product is not marketing tactics of the mother daughter team, but the flavor and feeling it gives you.  More on that in a minute.

The thing about granola is that it’s more than a cereal, it’s a lifestyle, a social class for liberal tree-huggers or anyone wearing hemp, or sandals with socks, or an affinity for pita sandwiches.  The hearty cereal is tainted by its double meaning.  Eating granola has a hint of the word’s social connotation.  You are just a little bit hippy by association if you eat granola.  It might hold true if we did a comparison of every granola eater and their politics/lifestyle, but I don’t think that should influence your impression of granola… at least not Zaydies.  Does Henrico County even have hippies? Certainly not!

My first few bites of Zaydies granola made me question what I was eating. This doesn’t fit my preconception of granola. It’s much closer to my sworn favorite raw breakfast, soaked steel cut oat groats.  The oats are tender and mild, not very sweet.  Nothing about eating it was coarse, or painful.  The oats were fresh tasting, not petrified.  Saturated with my soy milk (tried it with whole cow’s milk too), the chewy stuff had an earthiness, like a marsh field, but toasty.  These flavors and texture provide more connection to nature than a dousing of patchouli or a game of Frisbee golf that would earn you the silly moniker of “granola.”

There’s more than oats to any granola.  The first flavor of Zaydie’s that I tied was Blueberry Almond. After opening the bag I reacted to the sight of seriously plump raisins beyond any of the shriveled things you see in your typical granola.  This was a good sign. I popped on in my mouth. It bursted with the flavor of… blueberries? Damn.  I’m so used to the obligatory raisins in granola, that my mind had played tricks on me. Still, these were not lifeless dehydrated blueberry bits, but only slightly reduced in size and shape, with the blueberry flavor super concentrated. Really, a good accent to play off the earthy oats.  Since there’s no straight sugar involved (only rolled oats, almonds, honey, dried blueberries, canola, cinnamon, and vanilla), the flavors are subtle and your palate pays proper attention to the fruit and the roasted nuts.  It’s the definition of wholesome.  Eating the stuff feels like a return to nature, more back to the land than any block of tofu or sesame dressed salad.  A mini-vacation to start the day.*

With that, I think I’ve paid my pound of prose in exchange for my two bags of contemplation-inspiring granola.  I don’t know what it costs.  Probably a good thing for Zaydie’s, since I tend to get distracted by price tags.  However, those of you who’ve read this far about some locally made granola are likely to take the plunge, regardless. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed, unless Captain Crunch with Crunchberries is what you really wanted.  I’m still carrying a torch for that forbidden fruit, personally.

Cheers.

*whenever I go on a trip I wind up getting really attached to nature. the trees, the water, sun, air, crickets chirping, you name it.  I miss it before i’ve left and lament my urban life when I’m stranded at home for very long.  the right blend of natural foods kinda takes me back into the woods, the mountains, or on the beach.  maybe I’m using my imagination a bit. maybe somebody slipped me something.