|Un petit-dejeuner: crusty sour dough batard with real beurre, aged cheddar, fresh cinnamon basil,
naturally preserved peach jam, black grapes, Colombian coffee via French press.
I love breakfast.
Breakfast is my favourite meal of the day, which might be odd because I hardly really eat much and usually have the same thing. Though sometimes I do wake up ravenous and can wolf down a quintessential Filipino big breakfast, I often start my day ‘eating like a bird’. Meaning an assortment of bread, preferably the crusty or flaky buttery sort, creamy honest to goodness butter (margarine is not butter and will never be), various fruit jams or marmalade, real fruit, good cheese (the aged and crumbly), and of course, freshly brewed beans. Hmm.
About breakfast. More than the eating, I think its the ritual and process of making and preparing that endears the most. There’s something about getting up and fixing up the first meal of the day, the aroma wafting through the house, a fresh pot of coffee brewing — all these small things just seem to signal to the world that its a another day, a clean state, a fresh start. And I like taking my time with it; picking and breaking and spreading with my hands, nibbling on bread while reading the paper, or sipping the steaming cup of coffee while watching my furry beasts start their own day. That is how I like love having my first meal.
So perhaps that is one of the main reasons my typical daily grind mornings are less pleasurable. To be able to spend each morning this way before work would have to be a luxury. Or at least an hour or two earlier for the alarm clock. I don’t like rushing, I really don’t. Neither do I like settling for something devoid of nutritional value or worse, just to appease the grumbling stomach. But many times, this is so, as I also have to get going and get to work on time like a good employee.
Recently I made the extra effort to scour the long aisles of the nearby supermarket (in lieu of a weekend market or neighbourhood baker) for all the stuff I would need to be able to eat something decent, healthy, and enjoyable even while rushing. It wasn’t easy; it required scanning labels after labels after labels and inquiring the merchandise personnel that were not quite certain what it is I was really asking. Nonetheless, I did successfully go home happy with my relatively fresh, preservatives-free groceries.
It’s another week folks, have a good one!