work work work

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When I woke up this morning it was pouring rain and pretty cold outside. I woke up at the usual 7:30 am and had myself a cup of coffee and a tiny piece of crusttata with cherry marmalade. The Italians don’t do breakfast and I think that might also be screwing around with my digestion. Big lunches and huge dinners, but virtually no breakfast. When you come in for lunch you’ve drained yourself of any reserve energy from the dinner the night before, and I find that every one eats ravenously. It makes sense that they take at least an hour and a half to eat lunch and then another hour and a half to digest it. It is a difficult cultural and culinary transition. Maybe I could make them yummy breakfast foods, but why? They probably wouldn’t enjoy bull’s eyes, or denver style omelets, hashbrowns, bacon, fresh squeezed orange juice, biscuits and gravy, and mmm...everything bagels, lox, and cream cheese. Damn, apparently I miss breakfast food.

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