I usually eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast but I love those few days of the year when we sit down to a “real breakfast.” You know what I mean: eggs, bacon or sausage,
hot toast, bagels, English muffins, sweet butter and homemade preserves. Maybe a coffee cake and certainly plenty of hot coffee or tea. If we’re really lucky, fresh-squeezed orange juice.
Who can eat such a breakfast except once in a blue moon? But when you do, it’s sublime.
When I was a kid, one of our chores was “setting the table for breakfast.” My mother conferred on breakfast the same status she gave to dinner. It was time for the family to sit at the table and eat together. The night before, after the dinner dishes were washed, one or the other of us returned the placemats to the table and set them with cutlery and napkins. We carried the Lazy Susan to the table, which was permanently topped with jams, jellies, honey and sugar; butter and milk would be added in the morning. Cereal boxes, bowls, and plates were the last to be laid on the table and then we could go to bed, finish our homework, talk on the phone, or watch TV.
Nowadays I hardly ever set the table for breakfast but when I do, people appreciate it. This is more of a weekend occurrence than a weekday one, and more of a wintertime event than a summery meal, which makes sense. It’s a great way to start the day and to enjoy the family. You could skip the bacon or the fresh-squeezed orange juice, but remember that a little fuss goes a long way. More coffee, anyone?
