There are those among us who would love nothing more than to prove that breakfast, contrary to all the studies, does not mean that much, or not as much as we thought, or doesn’t do the things we maybe thought it did. Don’t listen to them!
In case there was any confusion about where I stand on this essential matter: There is no meal I have imagined, craved or conjured more than breakfast. If there is such a thing as being a breakfast person, I am that thing. Perhaps nothing is more of a crush-diminisher than finding out that a new acquaintance hates eggs, or could not care less about what he or she eats first thing, content to simply grab whatever is hanging around and hit the road.
One of the best things that has ever happened to me is breakfast. One of the second best things that has ever happened to me is the discovery that some restos serve it all day long. To this day when I see that a diner or some such will fry up some bacon and eggs even only competently but at all hours I make a point to tell others with sincere enthusiasm, only to find that no one else cares anywhere near as much as I do. Everyone else is meh, and I’m all swoon. It’s a tough life.
When my husband tells me he accomplished hours of work with no coffee or breakfast, I look at him quizzically like you would an alien or a small animal with whom it has become momentarily difficult to forge a genuine connection. Once in junior high I got this new boyfriend, and the ex-girlfriend he’d recently broken up with called me on the phone to talk, and instead of being kinda pissy, she just wanted to know if I liked breakfast, biscuits in particular. I did. I do. We’re still friends.
If I had to declare a take-me-I’m-yours breakfast, it would probably be a classic Southern one: scrambled or fried eggs, bacon or sausage, biscuits, gravy, hashbrowns, coffee, and some kind of obligatory fruit. This breakfast is pretty terrible for you — the fruit is there, at least, to suggest you’re aware of the natural world — but it gets the job done of feeling as though you’ve been blanketed inside in the warm goodness of protein and carbs and fat, and it is so often had in lazy group settings where the morning is whiled away because nothing else matters as much as the food, and everything else will get done eventually just fine. This is the correct way to live.
As much as I idealize it to near-fetish proportions, I’ve moved past this breakfast into much healthier fare. And yet, I still search for the exact right perfect combination of foods that will create this feeling in me without all the risk. I have pared it down to a handful of breakfasts which I rotate out so as to never become too bored, and when things are getting a little bleak, I re-introduce the Southern classic to indulge, then reset and begin again.
Here are my current faves:
Oatmeal with blueberries, almonds and honey w/coffee
One fried egg, one veggie sausage patty, blueberries, avocado, two sautéed mushrooms w/coffee
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