Breakfast remix, and a return.
Last May, the boyfriend (husband) and I schlepped out to New York City for a quick springtime trip. Some of Troy’s work was being shown at the Bordo Bello show at the AIGA gallery in midtown, and it coincided with his birthday, so our relatives graciously gifted us with plane tickets to go.
We basically ate our way through nearly every borough, which is our measure of a good vacation. I mean, we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge to get pizza, so it cancels out in my book. And, vacation calories never count.
One of our favorite breakfast stops was Le Pain Quotidien, where the food is fresh and delightful in just about every way. It’s one of those places, like Whole Foods, where even if you’re eating two chocolate covered croissants, you still feel like you’re the healthiest person on earth. I ordered a usual breakfast for me: some bacon, eggs, fruit, and was surprised when out it came, looking delicious — but with a side breakfast salad.
Turns out, breakfast salad is totally a thing.
And it should be, because it was delicious, even it my pre-programmed breakfast-only-food-at-breakfast(!) neurons in my brain were scrambling with confusion.
And then a week later I returned home to my regular breakfast food and promptly forgot all about it.
Until today, when, after months of the same breakfast of bacon/sausage, eggs and fruit, I was feeling seriously over my oeufs. We eat pretty healthy over here at the 525, which means I have to plan and cook a lot. I typically like the same breakfast every day, some variety for lunch, and lots of variety for dinner. Apparently I need a predictable routine to start my day, and then I can get all crazy at night. I also was wondering if bacon/sausage and eggs was too much for me — I like protein and fat at every meal, but was just not interested in eating both anymore. And, according to Beyonce, I’m a grown-ass woman and I do what I want.
And I wanted breakfast salad.
So, the boy prepared me bacon (he cooks breakfast every morning like a boss), and I made a simple spinach salad. And by simple, I mean really simple: baby spinach and a satsuma orange on top. But, BUT, here’s the fancy thing that made all the difference: I topped it with Peach Balsamic-infused vinegar and olive oil.
In a stroke of genius, before I stuffed raw spinach down my throat out of sheer willpower, we remembered we had some peach balsamic-infused vinegar that our sweet neighbors Matt and Molly (who have now abandoned us to move to a bigger house on the north side, those jerks!) who run the Venice Olive Oil shop downtown brought over to us one night. I typically don’t like sweet salads, sweet salad dressings or fruit in my salads EVER, but apparently breakfast salads just confound my long-standing, rigid salad rules. I drizzled that liquid delicious over my satsuma spinach salad, and it was like a fruit explosion all up in my mouth.
Breakfast salad FOR THE WIN.
And then I promptly made a votive candle out of the orange peel. Who am I today?
Breakfast salad makes you do things, people. You heard it here…probably last. Because it’s already totally a thing in fancier zip codes than the one in which I live.
P.S. Hello again, all 3 readers left on the blog. I’ve returned-ish.