Breakfast Part II

Some time ago I wrote an entry about my breakfast of buttery cookies. I ate this breakfast every morning as a purposeful act of excessive decadence, in defiance of all the health-and-diet obsessed weirdness that our society wastes so much time, money and spittle on. Well, that, and the fact that it is just a yummy way to start the day.

However, all this has changed in the months since. Summer has come, fresh fruit is in season, and I am busy as a fat man at 50 ft. buffet. So every morning I get up, and dump about half a liter of orange juice in a big container. Then I add yogurt, one or two eggs, and whatever fresh fruit I can find. We always have bananas on hand, and more recently Cynthia has been bringing home literally pounds of strawberries or blueberries. Not only are they yummy to eat, but they are brilliantly beautiful to look at. Through my sleep-addled haze, I marvel every morning at the candy-jewels that nature offers up, the brilliantly colored sweet sugars she has painstakingly assembled, all in hopes of attracting birds, and other animals to eat and carry her seeds.

Of course, as with anything, it is inevitable that sooner or later we have to try and go one better. During our years in Spain, getting our hands on maple syrup (without which pancakes are just not pancakes, in my opinion) could only be achieved by asking our kind friends to put a jug or two in their luggage. So when Cynthia encountered maple syrup in an exotic/imported food store in Krakow, we couldn't resist.

And when we got home and saw the blueberries sitting in the fridge, Cynthia couldn't resist the idea of blueberry pancakes. So Sunday morning we fried pancakes, and relished eating the gooey, candied mess. It was good. But somehow I don't think it was quite as good as the berries eaten by themselves.