The dreaded "B" word

Ah, the gentle rhythm of a leisurely Sunday. Drinking coffee on the back deck, perusing the Sunday paper and chuckling over the comics, staying in your pajamas until 11am, drinking in the sun and relishing in the going-nowhere-fast ambiance.

I vaguely remember Sundays like this. They happened before we had a baby.

Back to the image, though. Sleeping in, going back to sleep, reading in bed and listening to jazz, gently stroking a drowsy, sun-warmed kitty. Ahhhhh. Not for these days are the hastily eaten breakfast bar or the on-the-run peanutbutter half sandwich. These days call for an investment of culinary time. B--

B---

Br---

[sigh]

Brunch. There, I said it!

When breakfast food isn't your thing, eating breakfast food at times when it's not breakfast is upsetting. And when Sundays are tinged with melancholy, reminding you that the weekend is over and the work/school week starts again tomorrow, maybe you even have to drive back to college, and everything closes early and people aren't allowed to play because they have church and Sunday school and are supposed to spend time with family and there's no good tv on, routine feels comforting. So when people make you eat big breakfast food meals late in the morning and then you're supposed to skip lunch and yet you don't eat dinner any earlier, it tends to throw the whole day off.

I was well into my 20's before the idea of a leisurely Sunday held any appeal, and I still can get feeling "Sundayish," as my family calls it. The dreaded "B" word still causes weird feelings in the pit of my stomach, although I'm okay with the actual act of eating a late breakfast as my mid-day meal.

Darling Husband and I used to make fancy breakfast once and a while on the weekend (although we knew enough not to call it anything else) and this weekend I was able to resurrect that tradition. He slept in while Baby Girl and I took a long walk, which put her right to sleep. I took advantage of her slumber (just rolled the stroller right into the kitchen) to bake biscuits, bake some bacon (non-brown sugared, put from freezer to oven), do up some hash browns and make a fritatta.

I wilted some spinach (didn't have much) in a small sautee pan, adding in frozen peas. I only had two eggs, so I whisked them with a bit of cream and waited until fairly the last minute to do anything with them. Searching the fridge for something to bulk up this egg dish, I found a container of left-over lentils and garbanzo beans with carrots and curry. Why not? Into the pan they went! I noticed fresh oregano in a glass of water on my windowsill. Sure! Tear a few leaves into the dish! When the rest of the meal was coming to a close, I stirred in the eggs and let them scramble in between all the yummy veg, then topped with cheddar and a lid. The egg set and the cheese melted.

How did it taste? Hopefully Darling Husband will post a comment to tell you. For me, the beans and lentils added a great chewyness to the dish, while the curry gave lots of exotic but not spicy flavor. The carrots in it were still al dente, which was nice. The peas were bright and fresh and provided well-needed counterpoint. The cheese was salty and gooey and paired surprisingly well with the chick peas. I lost the oregano completely, but I'm sure it was in the background, doing its thing.

Baby Girl snoozed obligingly 85% into the cooking process, then laughed while she watched me stirring and scooping, flipping bacon and doing Julia Child impressions. If this is what brunch is, I guess it's okay. :o)