It appears as though I went on summer vacation. I didn't mean to. And I didn't really go anywhere. But there was yoga to be done. And there were knitting conferences to attend. And pottery classes to finish up. There have been all these books to make, and fact sheets to edit (and if you talk to me about fact sheets one more time, I might just have a good old-fashioned tantrum). There have been books to read (Nancy Drew, of course, and I just recently finished re-reading The Color Purple, which blew my mind all over again.) There have been friends visiting, and hardly any enemies, and when people come over they remark on the strength of our air conditioner, which fills me with an odd sense of pride.
There have also been many things to make, like homemade pizzas, glazed pots, knitted baby wear and sewn kimonos. There have been things to dream of making (a quilt, an Alabama Chanin Dress, more individual ice cream cupcakes with homemade magic shell, and of course, someday I'll finish Robb's sweater.) There's also the garden, which is in desperate need of a blog post update (and a good weeding, to boot).
But for now, let's talk about breakfast. Honest to God, I did not know where to begin with so much swirling around my head these days. But when I am confused I find it often helps to start at the beginning. And for me, the beginning is usually breakfast.
As many of you know, Robb works until very late at night. And when he works on the weekends, that means I usually get up and make breakfast just for me. It's not a sad thing, and I don't feel particularly lonely while eating said breakfast. In fact, eating breakfast alone allows you to do all sorts of weird things that you wouldn't do if you were making breakfast with someone else. Just recently, I boiled two eggs and sliced them up into a bowl of chopped kale, which I called "breakfast salad" if only because I was eating it before noon with a cup of iced coffee. (BTW, I don't eat meat, but if you put bacon in breakfast salad, I bet it would kick an enormous amount of ass.) Another favorite is pancakes-for-one, where I literally make enough batter for two pancakes (which is all I ever really want). And then, because I don't like my pancakes too sweet, I do one pancake with blueberries and eat it with butter, and the other pancake plain with syrup. Annoying? Sure! But that's MY problem, and I'm totally cool with it.
I'm not sure why, but this is a breakfast that sings to my soul. It looks happy, it is happy, it makes you feel healthy and not too full, it can be eaten as little sandwiches or as individual pieces. Forks are optional. And best of all, I don't know anyone else who eats this breakfast, thereby making it my "thing." And you know what? I bet we all have a "thing" we eat that is our signature feel-good food. (And now I'm curious to know what you people all eat for breakfast...could it be that I'm hungry as I write this?)
Either which way, I would like to make this blog post at least somewhat useful, so I thought I would leave you with instructions for how to hard-boil a perfect egg (a task that, believe it or not, eluded me for many many years.) Ready? Here it is:
Put the eggs in a pot with cold water (the water level should be at least an inch above the eggs). Bring the water to a boil, and as soon as it reaches a boil, turn it down to a very low simmer and put a lid on the pot. Set a timer for 13 minutes. When 13 minutes is up, immediately drain out the water, then transfer the eggs to an ice bath. Let them sit in the cold water for at least five minutes (preferably ten). If you crack the shell any sooner, they will be very hard to peel. When you do finally peel the eggs, the yolks will be golden yellow and there won't be any gray or greenish areas. Might I recommend you eat the eggs with an obscene amount of kosher salt? Yes, yes I might.