I’m sad to report that ever since I posted about these fabulous granolas, I haven’t made granola since.
I blame it all on my dad.
You see, he’s kind of a granola, in an old-fashioned, outdoorsy kind of way. He’s into hiking, gorp, scaling the highest peak in every state, four-wheeling and that kind of stuff. And he loves him some granola.
He and my mom (who is not granola in any sense of the word) came to visit us recently since we made our cross-country move to the depths of Wisconsin. I knew in honor of their visit I needed to make my granola dad some granola.
Enter my Aunt Marilyn (who happens to be my dad’s sister but who is not a granola). She sent me a recipe for granola weeks ago and insisted I must try it. But of course I hadn’t because I only make granola when my dad comes to town.
I made it the day before my dad arrived. And there was barely enough left when his plane landed because…
…who knew that my non-granola husband loved granola? Not I.
Three devoured batches later, we are officially in love with this granola. (And so was my granola dad.)