hand me down breakfast

Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. I think that has always been true, though I've just now realized it. As I get older, I've become more of a morning person--maybe it's the coffee. These days I enjoy breakfast at 7 instead of at 11 . . . or at 10 after a pure barre class, cooking, and photographing. Have I mentioned that I can't sit still?

I can't even talk about getting up early for breakfast without acknowledging that my dad wakes up around 5 on Saturdays to go to church and cook for men's breakfast. I'll be eating my breakfast when he gets home after cooking, eating, listening to a talk, and cleaning up. I see where I get my lack of sleeping from . . .

As I made this breakfast, I got to thinking about the hand-me-down influences on what I eat.

Growing up, my mom made pancakes as a Saturday morning treat, especially if I had a friend sleeping over. When I wanted to make breakfast more special than my everyday cereal or smoothie, I tended to make pancakes or waffles.

I've always liked bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits/bagels/sandwiches, but I didn't make them at home until a few years ago. This change was the result of special requests for these kinds of breakfasts. My family, friends, and even old boyfriends and their families (plus my sorority house's chef, thanks Mary!) have helped me branch out and try what have become some of my favorite foods. Now, I can't imagine life without grits, avocados, collards, sushi, etc.

I will never be able to cook eggs with my grandfather's skill. I turn the stove on low and try to be patient, but it's just not going to happen. I like to cook bacon in the oven, at 400 degrees for about 15 or 20 minutes. That's a hand me up technique to which I've converted my parents. These yellow grits are locally grown and rich--generously buttered, salted, and peppered. They tasted even better than they look.

So now, who's coming over for breakfast?