When I was in junior high, (that’s what they used to call Middle School) I was left alone to live with my dad. Which, being the seventies, meant I was pretty much left to raise myself. This was for my seventh, eighth and ninth grades. The only time a boy came to the door, ready to ask if I could play, my dad made sure he scared him into never coming back again. That guy was just a friend! Then when the real boyfriend came along, he just snuck in the back yard to my window. Heh heh.
But during this time, my dad made sure I got my 3 meals daily. But that didn't mean he cooked them. Especially breakfast. Before the divorce, he would make pancakes and bacon every Saturday. The smell of bacon is a memory of before i didn’t know we weren’t intact. Anyway, we would go to my grandma’s house for breakfast, before he would drop me off at school. Or we would eat at the Longhouse. That set the stage.
In high school, my friends and I would meet at a little place that reminded me of that Longhouse. in Seacliff. The fun of hanging with your friends before school ordering bacon, eggs and hash browns, and slathering jelly on toast is just a really cool way to start the day.
This love caught fire when I discovered “brunch”. That’s when it blossomed from a puppy love to an infatuation. Eggs Benedict awakened senses I was previously unaware I had. The hollandaise made me feel all giddy and the Italian bacon, muffins, fresh fruit, coffee. Real butter. joy!
The fancy Mimosa type places for Mother’s Day or my birthday. Or when I want to feel special. McKay cottage today was an outdoor seating delight with the fresh fruit side dish as overflowing with berries as the coffee carafe was offered to be refilled. Tried a non-traditional Benedict that had bacon and spinach and red peppers too. It was delightful. Look: