Scheherazade began a scrumptious post on Eggs and Bananas with the sentence:
If you ever decide to make me breakfast in bed, you should know that my favorite thing is eggs over easy, with maybe some toast or, even better, some spicy black beans and a couple of warm corn tortillas.
She fried a banana alongside her eggs. I’ve never tried that.
My favorite breakfast is pancakes. Plain or oatmeal. With maple syrup or raspberry jam. No butter. I think I like buttermilk or oatmeal pancakes plain rather than stuffed with MnMs or blueberries even.
On the weekends we kids stayed with our dad, he often made us pancakes. Perhaps he cooked them when he still lived at home but I don’t remember. My father’s creativity in the kitchen emerged as a result of the divorce, also creating a number of now-legendary stories around his original recipes, our own culture for our times at his places. One of my siblings refused to eat pancakes so Dad would top them with chocolate syrup from the Hershey’s can in the fridge or mixed from hot chocolate powder, to make them easier to swallow.
Mom made pancakes too, ones she called German pancakes, the size of the electric skillet, spread with butter, then applesauce or powdered sugar, and rolled. Usually she served them for supper. I liked them too, but I liked the idea of the heritage that came with the family recipe more than the taste which seemed too strong on the eggs.
If I make pancakes, I make them with a pinch here and there, off the cuff, improvising on a Saturday morning when we have some time to spare. We also have a waffle iron with heart shapes but I don’t know when I last used it. Ted isn’t a morning man so a simple breakfast is what I most often choose for the girls and me, such as cereal or scones.
My other favorite breakfast though would be cinnamon rolls, hot from the oven and homemade. The girls and I made some Christmas morning, refrigerating the dough overnight. They don’t taste the same the next morning but at the time they are fresh, they are delicious. Bakery rolls with their preservatives can’t compare As I pull apart the concentric circles to taste the cinnamon flavor, wrapped with raisins and bits of crust from baking, I know fresh yeast breads are the best.
While discussing breakfasts, I must confess a certain weakness for Dunkin’ Donuts oat bran blueberry muffins. When I was a college student and during the years we lived in Providence, I’d indulge in a stop at that coffee shop from time to time. I like muffins, and the oat bran blueberry had the pretense of health. The Dunkin’ Donuts near campus was the site of many a morning meeting with friends.
Eggs. I do like eggs although my cholesterol level (inherited?) would warn me otherwise. So I try not to eat them often. I like eggs scrambled. When I was younger I used to like eggs fried sunny side up or I’d even eat them raw. Now I like them mixed together to a fluffy yellow and tossed in the pan until nearly dry. I’m amazed at how fast I can eat them. My girls make them disappear too. We can eat a dozen in a morning.
Breakfast is my favorite meal. I was delighted when two of my babies were born in time for breakfast (the third one arrived in time for dinner). I was born in the morning myself and it is my favorite time of day. Since I married a nocturnal creature, and especially since I started staying at home, I haven’t fared so well with my early routines. But on an ideal day I wake early with time for reading and meditation, perhaps a little planning. Then a time of walking and running around the neighborhood in the cool air is followed by a warm shower with scented soaps. Maybe I’ll scramble some eggs, find time to knead scones, or bake a pan of oatmeal while the girls get up. We sit down together at the dining table and greet the day. A warm breakfast eaten with those you love makes the morning. It makes memories.
3 responses so far ↓
1 enoch choi // Feb 6, 2005 at 1:39 am
nice to read of memories of your dad…
2 Hamburger Lad // Feb 7, 2005 at 8:42 pm
I can’t recall the last time a post made me so hungry…
3 Lucy // Feb 8, 2005 at 6:59 am
I think I may have oatmeal for lunch! Its all drizzley here, and REAL oatmeal sounds soooooooooooo good. Obviously, REAL oatmeal is cooked with milk instead of water and a touch of sugar and served with enough true-butter that it puddles around the edge of the bowl. My dad used to put little chunks of butter around the middle of the bowl to make lakes.
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