There is very little that compares to enjoying a cup of bliss on a Saturday morning. Add a delicious breakfast to compliment that bliss and you have a perfect paring to relish the start of a blustery autumn weekend.
My Saturday began before the sun had yet decided whether or not it wanted to wake up. A faint haze was appearing at the horizon line, but not much more of morning light was discernible along the front range of the Rocky Mountains. As I stumbled out of bed and slipped into my jogging clothes, my mind began to formulate plans for the rest of the day. Adding sweat pants and blue fleece gloves to my normal running attire, I set out to stretch my legs and greet the sunrise and neighborhood dogs. Thirty minutes and a long shower later, breakfast was heavy on my mind. “Rumblings in my tummy,” as Winnie the Pooh would mutter, were reminding me that the Blue bell ice cream from the night before was all about gone, and I was just about on empty.
Readers who know me also know that I could just about live on cereal alone, a habit I picked up in college and maintain to this day. However, after over-indulging this week in the carbohydrate wonders inside my favorite cardboard boxes, I decided that Saturday morning was as good time to try my hand at something a bit more complicated.
Pulling eggs, veggies, fruit, and yogurt from the fridge, the morning’s menu began to take shape. Now, I have to admit . . . last night I was inspired by reading the food journal of a fellow blogger, http://newestobsession.com/ . . . inspired and a bit guilt-ridden at my lack of nutritious eating lately. So, I resolved that breakfast was going to be a marked improvement to some of my other hastily prepared meals this week.
A bit of history is in order . . . I’ve tried all sorts of diets throughout my teen and college years. Growing up, my mom cooked very healthy meals, specifically due to my dad’s heart problems. (Imagine protein powder pancakes, turkey meatloaf, and flax oil oatmeal.) I became a bit of a nutrition junkie and have tortured myself at different points with all sorts of no-fat, no-sugar, no-fun regimens. To be perfectly honest, I even struggled with an eating disorder as a freshman in college and have had to seek the Lord for a healthy perspective on food and eating habits. I had body image issues and perfectionist tendencies that I had to repent of and find freedom from. Several years ago, however, I began to once again enjoy food for the amazing gift that it is. Meals should be an experience for all the senses . . . one’s nose should relish whiffs of sweet and savory, one’s eyes should feast on brilliant colors and textures, one’s tongue should revel in the tantalizing flavors of cinnamon, curry, garlic and onion, and one’s heart should find rest in the abundance provided by the Creator. I guess my philosophy of eating does wax a bit lengthy . . .
That being said, I try to eat REAL, WHOLE foods – creamy yogurt, pungent cheese, fresh vegetables and fruits, farm fresh eggs (or as close as possible), whole grains, nuts, beans, meats, and a variety of healthy oils/fats. Real Food by Nina Planck has been a good resource for selecting unpolluted foods that are as good for my body, as they are for my soul.
Dicing pear and banana, I sprinkled Love Grown granola, cinnamon, and raspberries atop a dollop or two of plain, Creamy Australian Style Organic Wallaby yogurt. If you have not sampled the indulgent taste of this brand, then I would encourage you to “hop right in and enjoy” it, as the container invites. Oo la la! If nothing else, the kangaroo on the lid should amuse you as it does me.
Next, I sautéed some spinach, cut homegrown cherry tomatoes, sliced chives and whisked eggs. Coaxing a bit with my spatula, I turned out an omelet that looked not exactly professional, but not too shabby for an amateur. Garnish with feta cheese and the plate is just about perfect.
A cup of coffee with cinnamon dolce cream completes the ensemble, and Saturday morning is off to a tasty start. Bible reading time, journaling, homework and pajamas . . . and maybe a bowl of cereal . . . are in my future!