The most important meal of the day is too often ignored, lost amidst the grooming and rushing, a mere afterthought to caffeine. It takes hungry, curious children to remind us to slow down (acorn pancakes!) or friends visiting from afar to convince us to unearth our skillets.
As someone who grew up slurping big bowls of soup before heading off to school, I still haven't learned how to enjoy cold cereal or dry toast. Give me some leftover rice and a runny fried egg, though, and I'm ready for anything that Monday wants to throw at me.
You'd think that in the Bay Area, we'd be able to find breakfasts from around the world more easily: a plate of Turkish cheese and olives with some sourdough bread, spoonfuls of soft pongal or tender idli, even a bowl of pho or mohinga before 11 am. I imagine, though, that in the quiet of our kitchens, on all sides of the Bay, folks are preparing breakfast far outside the confines of frosted flakes. It's our most private meal, the one most dependent on comfort, habit and home.
The Irish and Filipinos, hearty eaters, have no problems sharing their breakfasts with a paying public. Nor do the Chinese, whether you're in the mood for a soothing bowl of jook or a parade of dim sum.
To get you thinking about morning meals....