Let me introduce you to the only breakfast I’ve been eating for — jeez, weeks now.
Two eggs very gently fried in a very little bit of butter, turned over easy and plopped on a willing piece of whole wheat toast, a banana (potassium), and, though hidden from your prying eyes, a multivitamin and a cup of coffee with milk. For those interested in these things, that makes an 8 point breakfast (delightful!) or 417 calories, depending on the size of your banana (dirty-sounding!). And if you take your coffee black and skip the fruit, it’s a mere 265 calories. And 7 points, which points (ha) to the flaws inherent in the Weight Watchers system. Look how easily I can eat half of what I eat.
I can safely say there is no more satisfying breakfast than this one.
There is nothing more delicious, more wonderful than whole grain bread soaked in egg yoke (perfectly cooked, if I say so myself: warm, clotty, but still runny, and yet free of the awful viscosity of slimy whites; I’ve made a study of how to fry an egg and I’m becoming quite the master, or mistress). Followed by that hearty tropical fruit, this breakfast keeps me fully functional all morning, and I basically can’t stop eating it.
I probably eat too many eggs now. My cholesterol was already high. I bet it’s stratospheric at this point.
I try to intersperse my egg-love with peanut butter or pumpkin breakfasts: peanut butter on toast, pumpkin in oatmeal. Those are fine. But nothing, nothing is as good as an egg.
(End Note: Sorry. This post is practically nonsense and unimportant and way too rhapsodic, but I’ve been reading Nabokov, and this is what he does to my writing style. Beware of Nabokov.)