I find it ironic that, considering all the wonderful cakes, pies, and cookies I bake, my grandchildren have one dish that is their very favorite: oatmeal. Yes, plain old oatmeal with a swirl of honey, a splash of cream, and whatever fruits are on hand, which might include fresh or frozen mixed berries, cherries, peaches (microwaved for one minute to soften them), raisins, bananas, and apples. That’s it. Plain and simple, but when I make it, my grandkids bring their bowls back and beg for more.

What about that special honey-sweetened chocolate cake I make with buttercream frosting? Or the big maple-sweetened peach cobblers I make? Or the delicate orange cookies or honey-soaked baklava, or that German chocolate cake with coconut frosting? Yes, these are all considered good and are requested on birthdays or special occasions. But if you ask any of my grandchildren what Grandma (or Meemaw for Ethan) makes best, I will bet you $100 that the answer is “oatmeal!”

When Sarah and Gregorio’s kids visit, Nico asked just before bed, “Grandma, can we have fresh orange juice and oatmeal tomorrow?” Of course, I say yes. It’s easy enough to pick oranges from our trees and whip up a pot of oatmeal. Early the next morning, Lyla emerges with a sleepy look and a yearning in her eyes. “Grandma, are you making oatmeal?” Even Luna, who isn’t all that interested in breakfast, says, “I’ll just have raisins in mine.” We have a veritable oatmeal extravaganza on those mornings, with Sarah, Ron, and Ray jumping in along with the kids. Gregorio has let me know he doesn’t like oatmeal, Andrew passed last time, and Rachael and Liz aren’t eating oatmeal at the moment but have been enthusiastic in the past.

Every weekday morning, little Ethan, who also lives at the orange grove, arrives for his oatmeal and fruit. Last night, he even came over before bed, declared himself hungry, and asked for, you guessed it, oatmeal and fruit. He filled his spoon high with the stuff and promptly deposited it into his mouth. I sat at the table with him while he ate, and we chatted. Ray said that it looked as if we were having a tea party.

I’ve never considered myself a gifted cook. I am a diligent cook and baker, a good reader of recipes, and an avid alternative sweet baker since I don’t eat refined sugar. I might even go as far as to say that I could challenge you to a taste test between most of my sweets and your regular sugar-sweetened treats. But, above all else, for reasons I don’t understand, I think I can claim to be a fairly successful oatmeal maker.

At least that’s what my grandkids say.