"brunching out", or on how He makes me breakfast.

some women like flowers and chocolates, i like waking up to the smell of fresh espresso and the warm aroma of spelt toast, the sort with edges just slightly too crispy and blackened.  whether its with a smear of almond butter, a spoon full of cassis jam, a drizzle of honey, or some savory tofu scramble or a bright yolk to wipe out, i absolutely adore my morning food! and i've been very lucky.  both of the men with whom i've had meaningful and "domestic" relationships discovered this wisdom and, as a result, i've had some wonderful breakfasts and brunches to wake up to over the years. and i never took it for granted: it was always such a treat!

when i was vegan for a couple of years, i discovered how wonderfully versatile tofu was as a morning food.  savory scrambles, omelettes, frittatas, "ricotta" topped pancakes.  all with tofu, some recipes to modify, and a little imagination.  of course, i made scrambles for years before that, but going fully vegan, made me experiment all the more.  and experiment i did, so there are some tofu scrambles, an 'omelette' and an 'egg' salad on this blog, if you are keen to try, are vegan, or just looking for alternatives. 

today, all these things are still my morning mainstays, though lately i've also taken to eating eggs again. not often, and always free run and organic, but i really do enjoy an egg now and again. why? well, i think i like eggs for the very same reasons i like most of the foods i like. because they are nutritious, satisfying, and because they make me reminisce about people and events.

but eggs? yes, eggs too remind me of so many people and things. they remind me of the egg sandwiches my mom would make and pack for my school day trips and picnics; during those empty store shelf days of the mid to late 1980s Poland.  or those eggs that would swim in the sorrel soup that she made with this wonderful tart-green-leaf we'd pick at the back of my granny Stasia's garden. or that - one of many - version of beet soup that granny Irena made; slightly sweet and all creamy from the diced egg whites and crumbled golden yolks sprinkled over the ruby red broth. and not having to go that far into the past, eggs also remind me of my friend Eun-Mi, who taught me how to poach my first one. "crack the egg into a cup, swirl the hot vinegar-water with a spoon, drop the egg, watch it wrap itself into its own little pouch" she'd instruct me.  i still remember our first poached egg breakfast.

there are those who are not morning eaters; who would rather just subside on coffee and let their bodies wake up fully before filling their bellies.  i, on the other hand, go to sleep with the thoughts of breaking the night's fast in the morning.  well, unless there are more pressing issues on my mind, of course.  and He knows that, so He makes me breakfast.