On the Virtues of Saturday Breakfast

 photo by Ali Inay

photo by Ali Inay

By: Taylor Nam

I am obsessed with breakfast, as long as I don’t have to make it myself. Let’s just face it: I am lazy and you probably are too because only about 30% of people in the entire world eat breakfast. Don’t quote me on that, I heard it from a very unreliable source and I’ve also been known to not remember things, most things, accurately.

The point is: basically no one eats breakfast. If you think I am exaggerating, ask yourself, “Self, did you have breakfast today?” And the answer will most likely be no. If you did eat breakfast, you’re also probably someone who practices sunrise yoga and watches Ted Talks and finishes all your Christmas shopping for the year in July. In other words, you have your life together. Congratulations. You may now affirm everything I am about to say about the virtues of breakfast because, clearly, you know it is a good thing.

Why don’t we normal people eat breakfast? I know I have a few reasons. Sleeping a little later is at the top of the list. Now, I know there are about a bajillion recipes on the internet featuring quick, to-go breakfast options for the lazies like me: overnight oats, smoothies and shakes, granola bars, power muffins, protein donuts (right) etc. I know I get all inspired and then I get all overwhelmed and then I get all annoyed because, really, who has spirulina just hanging around their pantry? Who has flax seed and cute little mason jars and a donut pan on deck for breakfast prep? Not me. Probably not you, either. But if you do: again, you fall into the life-together group.

When it comes down to it, I am usually running late for my bus to work or I’m running late for something else (because I’m just late, okay?). So, I barely have time to rush out the door let alone time to cook, eat, and clean up after a meal. Plus, I enjoy eating, I take pleasure in the process of partaking in a meal. I could be with another human(s) or with my book or with my couch. The point is, I eat slowly and I savor and I appreciate. None of those things can happen with a rush-out-the-door-grab-a-janky-looking-granola-bar-on-my-way-out breakfast. That isn’t to say that granola bars can’t be delicious. They can be. They’re just not breakfast.

Breakfast, to me, is a ritual. It is bright juice in clear glass so the juice’s glory shines through. It is hot coffee, so hot that it steams like a jacuzzi. It is warm plates and heavy forks. It is fried eggs with maple bacon and biscuits with gravy and, heaven help us, pancakes with sweet blueberries. It is the room getting lighter as the sun wakes up. It is someone across the table, someone good, who likes breakfast, too. It is a lot of someones, all around the table, clinking their juice glasses and sipping their coffees and ordering an extra side of hashbrowns because, well, hashbrowns.

People say that Sunday is the Lord’s day. I say that Saturday should be the Breakfast’s day. All week it is to-go hodgepodges in mason jars (no disrespect to the hodgepodge--it is probably delicious and I am probably just bitter that I do not possess the gift nor the desire to create such hodgepodges) or to-go coffee or to-go nothing. On Saturday, yes, Saturday is the day of glorious, bountiful, fresh-from-the-oven breakfast.

Maybe you hate breakfast food or, at least, think you hate breakfast food. I doubt you’ve tried it all. Have you tried a crepe stuffed with strawberries? That’s considered breakfast in Europe. Maybe you’re more of a savory person. In Hawaii, a bowl of white rice, gravy, and ham is served for breakfast. Or perhaps your taste would lend itself to the carnivorous realm: T-bone steak and eggs can never be wrong. Deep down, everyone is a breakfast lover – I just know it. Breakfast is a human trait, like kindness and friendship and love.

Respect the breakfast. Partake in the breakfast. Do not forsake the breakfast. I mean, forsake it if you have to during the week (I say this so I am not a hypocrite), but I beg you: make Saturday breakfast an event. Even if it is just you and the morning news and a bowl of oatmeal, made slowly and with care. Drizzle a little honey on top or a scoop of peanut butter or the whole jar of peanut butter, whatever you prefer. Just make it special. Or maybe make it a family extravaganza at the local breakfast joint. Or maybe just a tray in bed with your cat. Enjoy, friends, enjoy the day of the Breakfast.