Breakfast time has always been a special part of the day to me. It’s the beginning of a new day, and a chance to start it off right with a wholesome meal. Even at a young age, I enjoyed being the first one to wake up in the morning to get the coffee going – my parents made sure to show me how to make it correctly so it was something they would actually enjoy.
As I got older, my mother happily showed me a few more kitchen basics she had learned from her mother, and I ran with it. I made waffles with an old waffle iron my parents got as a wedding gift. I made French toast, which most of the family preferred. My favorite thing to make, though, was the griddlecakes recipe from Mom’s trusty The Fannie Farmer Cookbook, and you could tell from the warped, stained pages. I would sometimes customize them with the addition of strawberries and blueberries right in the batter, but more likely I would throw a handful of chocolate chips into the mix if I could convince Mom to let me.
Other times, I kept it simple with just bacon, eggs and fried potatoes, especially when I knew my uncle would be stopping by after a hunt. He would warm up by the woodstove with a cup of coffee in hand, and he and my father would talk about neighborhood news or the wildlife out and about that morning.
I always insisted on listening to an album from my parents’ eclectic music collection, and most of the time it was one of their numerous John Denver CDs. These days, I still listen to the same albums when I have friends and family over for our weekly breakfast or brunch. We’ll often have a potluck, but if I’m up to it, I like to provide the whole spread. It’s such a simple pleasure to cook delicious food for some of my favorite people to enjoy.
So, put on a pot of coffee, turn on your favorite tunes, and enjoy the company.
