Continuing its unhealthy obsession with America and Americans, the BBC recently posted an article titled "What does America have for breakfast?" No, shan't post a link. It's too long, boring, and badly researched to make reading it worthwhile, and there are no recipes or significant conclusions.
Apparently they've decided that we eat.
Which is true. Many normal people stick a breakfast in their gob at least once a day. This blogger does not do so, as the concept of solid food has neither relevance nor appeal until after lunch time at the earliest.
On Thursday I got up at six in the morning, and had two cups of coffee and a smoke. Ate a cookie about four hours later. And another one at three in the afternoon. There were three cups of tea and a yoghurt drink between the two cookies.
At four o'clock I had some kofta and rice in lavash.
Didn't bother with dinner at all.
More caffeine.
My apartment mate, who is a very dear sweet girl who has recently broken up with her boy friend, seems to not have much of a breakfast appetite at present. When it returns, she'll probably fry herself up a porkchop and eat it with rice and a little bokchoi. Either that or heat up a packet of matar paneer or alu saag and dump a fried egg over it.
Sometimes she has a bowl of cereal.
Or simply a banana.
She's a rather untypical San Francisco Chinese American in that regard. Chinatown likes dim sum or jook for breakfast; there are only a few places where one can get fried eggs or a hamburger at seven in the morning.
She'll recover. She still won't be typical, though.
This is not a typical household.
BUT WHAT DO OTHER PEOPLE DO?
Many other San Franciscans start the day with a large Starbucks coffee, Facebook, and an entitled attitude. Nothing solid there. Except, perhaps, deserved regrets at their mis-spent youth, as well as the "thing" that they brought home last night. Conceivably they are thinking "dang that camel looked better last night after five zombies" as they frantically erase all the embarrassing selfies from their page.
That "thing" discreetly departs.
Then they eat a donut.
Some begin the day with a refreshing vodka-based beverage.
An hour or so later, they drag their blond selves into the office, where they will have more Starbucks, shop on e-bay for a while, and gossip about reality shows omg.
I believe they may have a salad during day.
Something elegant, with a darling spork.
Breakfast isn't really a San Francisco thing. Not for the e-yuppies who came here from elsewhere in the country. It takes up too much time, interferes with a healthy hip lifestyle, might get stains on your fabulous wardrobe, and unfortunately TWO hands are required to read all your twitters and updates, as well as respond to e-mail messages.
Besides, if no one can see you eat, it isn't worth it.
No matter how vegan and pretentious it is.
You need awed witnesses.
Sushi bars don't open till noon.
It's currently just past midnight -- 12:11 AM.
Perfect time for bacon and eggs.
Plus a splurt of hotsauce.
Wish me bon appétit.
I'm going in.
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