:d
The smilies hate me tonight… grrrr!
Puts me in mind when I spent 5 days in Reno. At least 9 of my meals there were French toast and sausage.
Ice cream for breakfast is only the beginning.
Ice cream on top of peach pie for breakfast is the first step toward true righteousness.
I’ve never understood the idea of certain foods being appropriate only at certain times of day. I’ve eaten ice cream for breakfast and scrambled eggs for dinner. It’s 7:30 am here, and I’ve just had my first meal of the day–whole wheat pasta with marinara sauce (homemade, might I add–ha, ha!) and grated romano cheese. With a glass of water. Mmm, mmm, good.
My favorite food for breakfast, I think, is leftover Indian (especially South Indian) food from the night before. Leftover Ethiopian and Somali come pretty close, though. So do the tamales some Mexican women make on the west side of town. The police have been cracking down on the black market tamale trade recently, though, and there aren’t any really good legally sold tamales around here*. I haven’t been in the right places to score good Mexican food since September, so it’s been a while since I had a tamale for breakfast.
Darn. Now I want a tamale.
*Actually, I don’t know if that’s true anymore. I came across a Mexican place not too far from me that I think might be the real deal. The word “Cerveza” was misspelled on the marquee outside the joint, with an “s” substituted for the “z.” That’s a mistake only a native speaker of Latin American Spanish would make. So I’m thinking that the place has potential.
I love leftovers for breakfast! The best part of having pizza for dinner is knowing it’s going to be breakfast too!
The last flat I was in was five minutes from a 24 hour minimarket. If we’d stayed up all night we’d walk up just before dawn, and have precooked roast chicken and iceream for an early breakfast. Good times…
I recall reading an article a few years ago where a nutrionist recommended doing this because the sugars in the dessert get the metabolism going to digest and burn up dinner.
I believe that there is a restaurant in Sydney that only serves desserts, I’ll see if I can confirm this.
It’s *always * warm enough for ice cream.
This morning, I had Turkish meatballs with rice and lots of plain yogurt on the top. It was leftovers and I had to fight the daughter (who by rites, cooked them and should have had first dibs, but I’m older and stronger and have more guilt at my disposal.)
All’s fair in love and food.