Brown butter seed bars and community

It’s why we’re all here? Right?

Recipe and words by: Jenny Irwin (@localdessertcutie on substack.com)

Hello Backcountry Squatters. This week we’re going friggen international. I am writing to you from Canada – Pemberton, BC.

Before anything else, I wanted to start with some obvious questions that I’m sure many of you are asking yourselves. Like, “Who are you? And more importantly, should I bother reading the blog this week?” The latter question I can’t definitively answer for you – you’re all busy college students; but, if you’re interested in a home-made granola bar recipe, then maybe the answer is yes. (Don’t worry, it’s just below this paragraph, so you don’t have to go scrolling to the bottom of the page for the recipe.) As for the first question, I’m Jenny Irwin. A Backcountry Squatters alumni, chef, aspiring-farmer, skier, biker and (briefly) a chemical engineer. I have also been recently dabbling in the writing world, posting blogs through my Substack: local dessert cutie. Although formally a food blog, it has also allowed me to reflect on my own life through the written word. In my reflections, Substack has become a space for me to connect with others through my food, emotions and life experiences. Ultimately, it is because of connection that I am here on the Squatters blog. I believe food has the ability to connect us all, and the goal of my work is to help create a more inclusive food system. A food system that is based in community. The Backcountry Squatters has always led with the intention of inclusivity, specifically connecting minority groups within the outdoor community. Squatters has successfully created a space in which a safe community can be built. The opportunity to share my words with the Squatters feels like a natural step in fostering connections that make life that much better.

But, to start, let’s make sure everyone is properly fed. Brown butter seed bars. To take to the ski hill or into the backcountry or on a bike ride, or maybe to take to the library when exam season creeps up on you.

THE RECIPE

– 1/2 c. salted butter (could substitute for non-dairy butter, it just won’t brown when melted)

– 3/4 c. peanut butter (I use natural, unsweetened)

– 2 tsp vanilla

– 1/2 c. brown sugar

– 1/2 c. honey (or corn syrup… I typically choose the cheaper option)

– 3 c. oats (rolled or quick)

– 1/2 c. pumpkin seeds, toasted

– 1/2 c. sunflower seeds, toasted

– 1/2 c. sesame seeds, toasted

– 1/2 c. dried cranberries or raisins (optional)

– 1/2 c. chocolate chips (optional)

– 1/4 c. chia seeds

– 1/4 c. wheat bran (optional)

– 1 tsp. salt (I use coarse kosher salt)

1. I started by measuring and browning the butter. Take out a medium size frying pan and let the butter melt over medium heat. Once melted, keep it on the heat, stirring occasionally until it begins to bubble and foam. This will take anywhere from 5-10 minutes. At this point, the milk solids will begin to turn brown and you will smell a delicious nutty flavour. Pour it into a medium sized bowl and pop it into your fridge to cool down.
2. Now, set your oven to 350F. Prepare a 9×13” rectangular baking pan by spraying/greasing it and then covering it with a sheet of parchment paper. It’s ok if the paper hangs over the sides.
3. While the butter is still cooling, measure your dry ingredients into a big mixing bowl: the oats, the seeds, dried fruit, salt and the chocolate and bran (if you are adding them). Stir to make sure the mixture is evenly distributed.
4. Once the brown butter has cooled down, add the peanut (or any nut/seed) butter, brown sugar, honey and vanilla. Whisk together until mixture is evenly combined.
5. Pour the butter mixture into the dry ingredients and stir until everything is evenly combined.
6. Pour this mixture into the prepared baking pan and press the mixture into the pan so that
it’s firmly packed. I like to lightly wet my hands to do this, it helps so that the mixture does
not stick to your hands.
7. Pop this in the oven for 40 minutes, or until the edges and top of the bar begin to brown.
8. Let cool at room temp for 15 minutes and then let it cool further in the fridge. This will make
it easier to slice!
9. Leave for an hour or so and cut into bar sized bits! Store in the freezer or at room temp.

THE STORY

When I first pitched the idea of this blog post, my brain immediately focussed on the food aspect. Food is what I do. It’s how I connect with others, it’s how I show people that I care for them. A big batch of curry prepped for a busy week in school, a big breakfast hash shared with your roommates after a night out, or seed bars to take to the ski hill; these things are ways we can show love to ourselves or to others. But I knew that I couldn’t necessarily lean on my crutch of food to create a bridge between our separate lives. Not everyone worships food as I do. Some even hate cooking (respectfully). On top of that, I am a 28 year old who graduated university five years ago and hasn’t used my degree since. I don’t particularly see myself as a relatable or an inspiring voice for the younger generation. But as I sat at home with my coffee and a broken wrist (mountain biking accident), I thought about myself five years ago. At the time I was in the midst of finishing a Chemical Engineering Degree that I didn’t particularly want. My 3.9 GPA told me that I was doing well and I felt proud to be graduating with honours. But despite that, I felt so unsure of my future. I would cling to recommendations from teachers; completing research that would look good on my resume, having no interest in its subject. Taking an environmental engineering job because it sounded good on paper. It was clear that I had no idea who I was, but I knew that I needed more connection. To what? I wasn’t sure yet. And so, I’m hoping that in sharing my own journey for connection, maybe it sparks within one or any of you similar feelings. After all, I think connection is why many of us are here with the Squatters.

After I had finished my Engineering Degree at Montana State, I struggled in the sea of possibility. I had no idea what I was going to do next. Working in the environmental engineering field left me completely depleted of happiness. I quit my job, moved back to Canada and turned to something that had always given me joy, food. With a fresh engineering degree,a minimum wage job at a bakery wasn’t exactly what I imagined for my 23 year old self, but I was happy. Skiing lots and lots, baking cakes, and blind to the fact that Covid was about to shut the world down. When it did, I kept baking and cooking and baking. I’d bake all day at work for people who had nothing else to do but buy cakes, and then I’d come home and cook myself an elaborate dinner. I taught myself how to make slow-cooked pulled pork, home-made perogies and my first roast chicken. I’d plan my weeks around a singular trip to the grocery store, making sure that I had enough food to make my delicious meals last two weeks. I threw myself into cooking with excitement and nerves, applied to culinary school when the pandemic began to settle. I also landed my first official chef job at a backcountry lodge in Banff National Park; it was a dream. I hiked to work in the summer and skied to work in the winter, staying up in old cabins that were tucked among the Canadian Rockies. I fit in with the people at the lodge as well as I had the outdoor community of my college days. I had found my calling. Screw engineering.

But, this calling came to a screeching halt just two years ago. It started slowly with burnout symptoms and ended quickly with a bad bacterial infection in my intestines. I had to quit my dream job and was forced to fully restart. As I slowly built back my gut health, I reintroduced myself to kitchens. None like the kitchen that I had sang and danced in among the mountains. Kitchens that were run by stereotypical male chefs. Egotistical and hot-headed men who would talk down to me as though I didn’t have a brain, let alone a Chemical Engineering degree. I lost confidence in myself, lost my passion for cooking and I felt wildly alone. Without fully understanding it I had lost both my connection to food and the village that I had found through my love of food. I questioned every choice I had made, from quitting engineering to moving back to Canada.

As one to never follow a straight line, my next step came once again out of left field. I stumbled upon the Practicum in Sustainable Agriculture at the University of British Columbia Farm. In my mind it combined my love of food with my propensity for the outdoors. And, I wasn’t disappointed. From the first day I felt an overwhelming sense of community, something I didn’t even know I had been missing. My connection to food was slowly rebuilt and expanded upon. The Practicum helped me heal my connection to myself through learning with the Earth and with people I cherished. In many ways it reminded me of the days I spent in university exploring the mountains of Montana; days when I attended Backcountry Squatters events where I was able to learn new skills in a safe environment. The ability to feel safe while stepping outside of your comfort zone is the result of a strong connection to your community. Something that had often been missing since my time with the Squatters.

And, finally, I’ve brought us back to the beginning. My 28 year old self is sitting at the kitchen table with a broken wrist and (now) a cup of tea. It’s my hope that in sharing my life story up until this point my words have served as a reminder that you are not alone. You are part of a community of like-minded folks who support and uplift each other, who learn and grow from one another. I’m not entirely sure where I am going from here, but my choices will continually be influenced by the kinship that Backcountry Squatters encourages. With the support of an extensive community, life takes on a bigger meaning. If this post does anything for you this week, I hope it inspires you to bake yourself some granola bars, call upon your community and get outside.