I am not reading Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook. I am not reading Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook. I am not reading Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook.
(I am reading Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook. Fuck. And I totally love it. Double fuck.)
I blame New York Magazine. And society. And buckwheat. And her delicate prose that I can’t help but read aloud with a fake affected English accent (everyone reads everything they read out loud, right? The people on the subway are really enjoying learning more about dietary fiber, I think.) and her effortlessly lithe good looks and her children named Apple and Something-Not-as-Cool-as-Apple*.
Let’s tackle that hate in a more in-depth manner, as hate is wont to be tackled.
The New York Magazine thing: Okay so you see an article called “I Tried Gwyneth Paltrow’s Diet” and the url ends with “and-got-a-rash-on-my-face.html” – what do you do? You click it, goddammit. Then, as you contemplate the subtle differences between dashes and underscores, you read the article. Ok you mostly read it. You read a good portion of it. You read a lot of the words of some of the portions. But there are a lot of words. So many words! And the people on the subway are demanding new material! Quiet, my sweet doves!
But in those words in those paragraphs in that article you skim, you realize something alarming: Fuck, man, I want to read Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook. Call it persuasive writing, call it witchcraft, call it an irrational desire to read a cookbook called It’s All Good that doesn’t end with the word “Aiiiight?” and determine for yourself if it should, in fact, end with the word “Aiiiight?”**, call it what you will. Just please don’t call me while I’m reading Gwyneth’s (we’re close now, we talk about copper levels and omega-3s) cookbook because I need a few days. To myself.
Oh and the society thing? It shouldn’t be so easy for me to download It’s All Good on my iPad. I should have to go to the bookstore and make eye contact with a cashier and consider my actions if I want to purchase such a book. But instead, I just entered my password and the whole transaction was as anonymous as a Craigslist Casual Encounters rendezvous. But filthier.
I think we, as a people, are past discussing Gwyneth’s deliciously absurd accent but that doesn’t mean that I, as a Molly, am past saying her writing is just as refreshing as a date with an ol’ John Thomas in your twigs and berries. (Did I do that right? Because I’m talking about sex.)
But yes, let’s try out her Power Oatmeal with a few little changes because I just can’t let Gwyneth Paltrow win that easily. I do have some dignity. Sort of.
*Moses? His name is Moses? She named her first child Apple and her second child Moses? I HATE HOW MUCH I LOVE HER.
Gwyneth Paltrow-ized Baked Power Oatmeal PB+J Squares
adapted from her recipe in It’s All Good, page 36
makes 16 servings
- 1 cup old fashioned rolled oats
- 1 cup roasted buckwheat (kasha)
- 1 ½ cups unsweetened almond milk
- 1 ½ cups water
- ¼ cup ground flaxseed
- 1 tablespoon maple syrup
- ⅓ teaspoon salt
- ¼ teaspoon stevia extract
- some peanut butter
- some jam
- optional mix ins: ½ teaspoon vanilla, some cinnamon, nutmeg, dried fruit, nuts, chocolate chips, more peanut butter and jelly, soul
the photos in It’s All Good are so rustic that I’m pretty sure I need a tetanus shot now…
preheat your oven to 375. Grease a square cake pan with wither cooking spray or a little bit of coconut oil.
Mix all your ingredients together in a medium bowl. Pour into the greased pan. Bake for 30 minutes. Turn the oven up to 400 and bake another 5-8 minutes. Remove from the oven and let the oatmeal cool completely. Cut into squares. Remove your squares from the pan. With a sharp knife, carefully slice in between the squares to make each square into two layers, like you would a layer cake. Spread a dab (4g-5g for the sake of insanity) of peanut butter and a dab (3g? sure.) of jam on the bottom layer, top with the top half, and eat like a sammich. Cut into triangles if you’re really adorable and your name is Pomegranate or some dumb shit like that.