Sunday Breakfast

Breakfast comes in all shapes and sizes. Last Sunday was a particularly wonderful one.

I’d actually considered going out to breakfast, an occasion in itself. Breakfast, in my world, is rarely a stack of pancakes or French toast or even eggs-over-easy delivered to the table, unless I’m on the road for some reason – another rare occurrence. Breakfast is usually a (delicious) bowl of oatmeal (add apples, raisins, fresh ginger and roasted pecans), or a pile of fresh fruit and maybe toast, and always a good cup of coffee. Invariably, at home.

I did have coffee, and I don’t know, probably fruit, last Sunday. By 10:30 or 11, I was ready to hit the Farmer’s Market, one of my very favorite Sunday pastimes: walk to market, visit with friends, enjoy the sunny weather, buy some apples, peruse the greens, debate on whether to spend $5.99 for 8 ounces of Cherry Glen goat cheese (because it’s locally made! And it’s delicious. I wound up going for the buy-3-get-1-free, and splitting the order with a friend).

The twist this Sunday was that I met Clara there, after she’d spent the night at a friend’s house. (For those of you new to the blog, that’s my 16-year-old daughter and one of my most favorite companions.) She was starving, so after much considering of fresh, local veggies and gabbing with friends, I told her I’d take her to breakfast. How generous, I thought. She looked doubtful. It was a beautiful day. I think she wanted to stay outside, and some of the produce we’d gotten really was irresistible.

So we bought a beautiful loaf of asagio bread from the Stone Hearth Bakery stand, sat down at a sunny bench in the middle of the market and opened our market bags. Out came the goat cheese. Cheese on cheesebread – don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. There was also a purple pepper from Wheatland Vegetable Farms, and fresh arugula from my favorite market stand, Twin Springs (my son Tyler worked here last summer PLUS they have fabulous peaches and honey crisp apples). Clara put together these perfect little parcels, with a modest chunk of rustic bread, a nicely portioned smear of goat cheese, a chip of pepper and a bit of arugula. Mine were a little more haphazard, but she was sweet enough to make me one when I started eyeing hers with envy. Then she came up with rolling the pepper and cheese inside a piece of arugula. The girl is a born chef. We washed it down with cider so pure it tasted like drinking whole apples.

This was one of the best breakfasts ever, no table, eggs, pancakes involved.