I am an intensely ritualistic person. Ritual equals spiritual. I run most efficiently with certain groundings behind me. It’s more valuable than any gold, any material item, any fracture of monetary sacrifice. Breakfast is one of those rituals. A good morning kiss. Caffeine-less caffeine. A warm hug to my tummy.
Good morning from early 2017. I fly to Denver on January 24 to shiver in whatever wintry winds blow at my time of arrival and stay. I can’t find my bulky Elizabeth Arden jacket I used in Sweden two years ago, and it worries me. We booked an Air B&B in November, rented our car, and ever since have slowly wound up the gears of our mutual excitement in hitting the jet stream again and exploring a rich veldt of newness. Static existence feels entirely wrong to me. A restlessness ensues, so this trip will be a glorious sunny stream in my new year self. On my days off work – I’m a full-time barista, FYI – I drive merely to drive, make up errands in order to escape the snuggly confines on my bed, flat line in inspiration by 3 p.m. A five-day reprieve of routine will be utterly welcome, and the way I look at it, I’ll find a new five-day ritual to which I can adapt. Wake up. See something new. Taste something new. Fight blue lips. Keep warm. Love the starry-eyed wonder I conjure from the new sensory invigoration.
Breakfast is the pulse-slowing process after sleepy-eyed yoga, the first cup of coffee, the limb-stretching run around the neighborhood nearby. This 1-2-3-4 punch refreshes and awakens. People I talk to speak of rushed mornings, and I can’t even process such a fluster at such early hours. Mornings are a treat to taste as often and fully as possible. And that’s where toast comes in.
I eat avocados almost every day. When I make breakfast at work, I often pile a lump of spinach, a couple tomato slices & a few wedges of thinly-sliced red onion onto a slab of pumpernickel to accompany a creamy layer of mashed avocado, then press it for a few minutes to toast all the flavors together. Guacamole is my Tex-Mex catnip. Add tortilla chips and I’m a goner. I’m a fan of avocado-chocolate mousse when I’m not too lazy to clean my blender. The avocado is a fruit laden with unsaturated fats, the subject of rave from beauty gurus & health experts alike. I still haven’t mastered removing the seed without obliterating the surrounding flesh. It’s fine. I’m a messy person and I accept that. So long as the toast tastes good.
Sometimes I take my toast in its simplest form, and other times I adorn the shit out of it with seeds and herbs and sometimes bizarre warps. This toast is hardly complicated, unless you count the prior process of baking a dark pumpernickel bread. Not a requirement here. You can use any bread, though wheats and ryes are my favorite for their thickness and ability to hold the weight more sturdily. Fresh dill is a must. Coarse salt spikes the flavors of red pepper and cayenne better than fine sea salt. These are my opinions. Take them with a grain of whichever salt you prefer.
2 slices choice bread (I prefer dark wheats)
Red pepper flakes
Fresh cracked black pepper
2 soft poached eggs
Sprinkle cayenne pepper
4-5 small sprigs fresh dill
- First, toast your bread. Crispy is best to hold the toppings, else your toast might turn to bread pudding.
- Spread 1/4 of the avocado on each slice of bread.
- Sprinkle salt, pepper & red pepper over the avocado.
- Poach your eggs. I like the vinegar/whirlpool method, but several ways to poach eggs exist. I enjoy a good runny yolk, but cook it to the doneness you desire. Here, here, and here are some guides to egg-poaching.
- Slide finished eggs onto avocado, and top with a touch of cayenne pepper and your dill sprigs.
Day Three | January 3, 2017 || London Fog @ Starbucks
Day Five | January 5, 2017 || Holiday blend with Almond Joy creamer
Day Eight | January 8, 2017 || Holiday Blend with Almond Joy Creamer