If you have read more than two of my posts, you will know already that I am not much given to poetry (literally or metaphorically) nor flowery-sweet expression (except perhaps when discussing the culinary merits of maple syrup vs golden syrup, treacle vs molasses). When I do occasionally wax lyrical – about particularly luscious basil, or rose petals fresh from the garden of my younger sister, Kathryn – it is definitely a bit of a shock to my system!
So forgive me when I say that for me, breakfast is the little resurrection that happens every day. Yesterday is gone forever, today is a whole new start, a little resurrection on the path of life – every day brings a fresh opportunity to do your best to be a good person and live happily.
No surprise, then, that since leaving school days behind with their signature of hurried cold cereal, I have more often thought back to when Mum made pancakes or donuts as a treat when I was very small, or to the little extras squeezed out of a tight budget, such as toast topped with a scrape of cream skimmed off the milk in the days before homogenised milk was the norm (yes, I know – I was born around the time of the last ice age!). Perhaps that is why I think the all-day breakfast might be the greatest invention of modern times – certainly, my love affair with good coffee is closely linked to breakfast-as-aromatherapy while I restart, reboot, and just keep going.
So for the next several weeks, as we head towards the great restart celebrations of Easter, I’ll feature one of the approaches to breakfast that I love, starting on Monday next with an Italian thought – Subito presto! (literally, immediately, soon!) for those days when we are on the run, and leading to Sunday on Orthodox Easter Sunday 8th April, with a Spanish thought Cuando una puerta se cierra, ciento se abren (when one door closes, a hundred open) to give due oxygen to a more contemplative moment at breakfast.