Breakfast: February 2007 Archives
I was so sure I was going to love this that I started composing this entry in my head before I had even scooped the yogurt into my cup. And I think the level of my expectations may have sabatoged the experiment. This is good, it's a natural, and I like it. Not really sweet enough to compete with a good honey-yogurt combo, not rich enough to make me swoon (my fault for choosing the nonfat instead of the full-fat yogurt, which were my only two options). This was the first time I opened up the June Taylor fig, port and lemon thyme conserve, and it's . . . interesting. Every flavor is there, so it's kind of a complex taste. I almost think the stuff would be good with some roasted pork, chicken, maybe even lamb. It's not really sweet enough to definitely be dessert.
Or a good cheese accompaniment--I almost think something nutty and sharp would be good with it--you know, like the quince paste and manchego combo. I think gorgonzola or goat cheese are common fig partners.
Oooh, I like the cheese idea . . . and there they go again, those expectations, higher, higher, higher.
I was so sure I was going to love this that I started composing this entry in my head before I had even scooped the yogurt into my cup. And I think the level of my expectations may have sabatoged the experiment. This is good, it's a natural, and I like it. Not really sweet enough to compete with a good honey-yogurt combo, not rich enough to make me swoon (my fault for choosing the nonfat instead of the full-fat yogurt, which were my only two options). This was the first time I opened up the June Taylor fig, port and lemon thyme conserve, and it's . . . interesting. Every flavor is there, so it's kind of a complex taste. I almost think the stuff would be good with some roasted pork, chicken, maybe even lamb. It's not really sweet enough to definitely be dessert.
Or a good cheese accompaniment--I almost think something nutty and sharp would be good with it--you know, like the quince paste and manchego combo. I think gorgonzola or goat cheese are common fig partners.
Oooh, I like the cheese idea . . . and there they go again, those expectations, higher, higher, higher.
If you know any dutiful churchgoers, you've probably at least heard of that experience when they (or you) walk into church, sit down, and hear a sermon that speaks exactly to some struggle they (or you) are having.
And so it goes with me today with that not-really-a-religion-but-feels-like-it-sometimes, food: I'm laying on the sofa at 6:30 this morning thinking that I really don't want to eat any of the usual suspects for breakfast. I want something savory, but not eggs. Something warm and satisfying. "What if I make grits with lots of butter and cheese?" Silence. So I'm not going to do it; I'm not hauling myself up to prepare food that my son and husband won't eat. Did I mention it's 6:30?
Then later, thank you, the Times suggests the very thing. It doesn't make my family any more willing to eat it, but it gives me a little vindication in the face of their disdain. And maybe tomorrow morning I'll make them go hungry as a sunny-colored bowl of grits slowly cools in front of them.
