How do you begin your day? Do you have a set plan in place from what you will wear or what exercises you will focus on for that day, down to a pre-prepped morning meal? OR do you wing it, rolling out of bed with eyes partly closed changing into whatever clothes may have been washed but never made it to the hangers in your closet and immediate reach for any coffee that can jump start your day? Maybe something in between? I would say for the most part, I am rolling out of bed and push through until about 11am fueled with coffee, before I realize that food is fuel and coffee is just a mirage.

I’ve never really been a breakfast person. What I mean as a breakfast person, is one who eats a full meal of pancakes, waffles, french toast, eggs benedict, bagels and lox, scrambled eggs with bacon and hash browns. I grew up on cereal, oatmeal, coffee and bread. Bread being quiet versatile in that it could be a sweet slice of cake from last nights party or be a holder for a multitude of fillings, like a taco. We would have avocado, cheese, mortadella, butter and jam, or any leftover meat from last night’s dinner stuffed on a folded single slice of bread. And always with a cup of coffee. Even as a child I drank coffee.

The morning rush of trying to get kids to school and grown-ups to work is unsympathetic to the desire of sitting down to a well balanced breakfast meal. The best cheats for this would be prep the night before and manage your time efficiently. I have on rare occasion been that person, to prep ahead of time, but for the most part I would like to say that I am a free spirit when it comes to tossing food together. I always make use of whatever I have on hand and try to reinvent with imagination any leftovers. This helps me feel less guilty about my splurged food bills.

To Beginnings


  • Cocoa Oatmeal Porridge
    It’s funny how comforting certain foods can be and how they trigger memories in everyone of us. For me oatmeal was one way for my mother to show her love. Sometimes she would regular oatmeal porridge, supper milky and extra sweet and other times she would change it up with some cocoa. My mother never really said, “I love you,” or hugged me for no reason, but I do remember and cherish, moments like when I was postpartum with my first born and she made me a batch of this oatmeal that kept me going those first few days at home. It is an act of love to go out of your way to make food for some else. It does not need to be fancy or hours of labor… it could just be a cup of milky oats. Thank you Mom.

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