13 August 2007

I definitely did not marry an axe-murderer.

Stayed up late last night reading a book on the Borden murders.

As any astute Bordenologist could tell you, Andrew and Abby Borden's last meal consisted of a breakfast of days'-old sliced mutton roast and mutton soup with bread, fruit, sweets, and coffee. Many an inquiring mind has asked: who in god's name eats mutton soup for breakfast during a heat-wave? (Local temperatures in the days surrounding the murders hovered around 100 degrees -- uncommonly hot for Massachusetts).

Notably, Lizzie only had a cup of coffee.

Of course. Do you really think anyone could have done in their family with an axe on a stomach bloated with spoiled breakfast meat and cookies? In that heat? I would have had to take a nap.

I've never been a fan of the big breakfast. I tend to run on a cup of yogurt, a glass of 2% milk, a cup of OJ, and a spot of tea. MJ likes to make big breakfasts. She'll griddle pancakes and fry eggs, throw fakin' bacon in the oven, and top it all off with bowls of ridiculously healthy cereal -- you know, the cereals in boxes devoid of cartoon characters.

I like the occasional egg. Especially hard-boiled. But she tells me I need to eat more in the morning. She's probably right; I'm just stuck in a breakfast habit.

My grandfather ate oatmeal everyday for breakfast. An entire life comprised of oatmeal. He's 90 now and in good health, so maybe there's something in that. Small simple breakfast... no axe-murderers...

I have to admit that I do enjoy the occasional big breakfast. The best breakfasts I've ever had were in Athens, Greece. Every morning began with eggs, mushrooms, a pastry, and -- of course -- olives. There's something about an environment where mushrooms and olives are considered breakfast food that just appeals to me in the deepest of ways. I think it's because it is not that I don't like breakfast -- it's that I do not like breakfast food.

I'd rather eat cold pizza than a waffle.

Maybe it's an aesthetic thing.

More likely, I'm just too lazy in the morning to bother eating anything that involves using an appliance.

MJ does make the best pancakes on Earth. It's hard to find any fault in them. It's a zen-like practice to watch them settle out and golden-up on that table-top griddle. And with a little real maple syrup, we're talking heaven.

I'd just rather eat 'em for lunch.


MJ said...

Does that mean I married an axe murderer?

Dwight said...

MJ's right on this one (regarding big breakfasts, I mean, I can't comment on the axe murdering). I, too, am in a mixed breakfast marriage. We may need couples therapy someday because my particular wife lives off of a bowl of cereal every day (or oatmeal or grits in the winter), whereas for me a week without waffles is like a day without...um, pancakes?