I mean really, SEVENTEEN comments about what you eat for breakfast? When a thought-provoking story about, I dunno, my classroom barely gets two? I’ve been barking up the wrong tree with this teacher-blogging thing, it’s all food from here on out! The Omnivore’s Dilemma, indeed.
For two days now, I’ve packed and eaten The World’s Healthiest Breakfast. I know it deserves this title, because no one can watch me eat it and not comment: Wow, that’s really healthy!
I basically used one of those plastic boxes that mixed organic pre-washed greens come in, put in a smaller container of Greek yoghurt with acacia honey (when you’re packing The World’s Healthiest Breakfast, you can’t skimp on your honey… though the next jar will definitely be something local), peeled chopped up half a cuke and one tomato, added a hardboiled egg salted and peppered, put the lid on, and took the whole thing to school. So far, so good.
My vision included a few slices of fresh bread, but I woke up Tuesday morning to find my baguette more weapon-like than edible, so I sprinkled a little of my remaining stash of cereal on the yoghurt. And breakfast was amazing. After I ate it, I just felt satisfied. Healthy, energetic, full. That night, I went in search of better bread, and picked up an Italian loaf at a nearby gourmet supermarket. This morning, the loaf was still good, and I added a couple of slices, along with some olives, to the mix. All would have been well except that it all mixed around in transit and I didn’t get to eat until third period, by which point the bread (and everything else) was thoroughly yoghurt-soaked. Still tasty, just uniformly sweet and yoghurt-flavored. Note: Put a lid on the yoghurt’s container.
The interesting thing is that this meal takes longer to make – expected – but also makes me slow down eating it. There’s no inhaling when you have such a varied, tasty breakfast. Which is actually a problem, or at least suggests a need for a restructuring of my morning routine (unlikely), because today I never found the 20 consecutive minutes I needed to enjoy the meal until third period, by which point I was hungry enough to consume school supplies. Fiber, indeed.
So, next comment-provoking question: Do you own a bread machine? Which one? How much was it? Are you happy with it? They’ve always struck me as weird specialty appliances, a huge luxury in a small NYC apartment, especially since I’m actually pretty good at making bread the old-fashioned way (not that I ever do). But if I made all my bread myself, I’d know exactly what was in it, and – better! – I’d have fresh bread every morning! So, bread machine reviews, please!