Chubby Bunny

Breakfast: So Nice, I’ll Eat It Twice

My friend Ariel onced asked me during Sociology recitation what Chinese people eat for breakfast. To be honest, I have not experienced a traditional breakfast in my house that replicates that of my ancestors in China. From my understand, they have congee, some fried gluten sticks and maybe some pan-fried noodles. Maybe there are some steamed buns, and dumplings, kinda like dim sum. I really don’t know, because it translates to boring, greasy and heavy in my mind.
Don’t ask, but I wake up about a quarter to six on Saturday mornings in the summer. Well, not the entire summer, but it has been true for the last three weeks.

We go out, then we come back when more of the city is awake. I usually shovel down about a cup of Cheerios and half a cup of whole milk, because I need my calcium. (Um, plus I didn’t exactly have any milk the entire week, I think.) The first thing I ate when I got home was the often-fantasized avocado “sandwich.”

It’s just thinly sliced avocado in half a pocket of wheat pita bread, nothing else, because I’m in love with avocados– its taste, texture and nutrients. Ah. To my fellow adorers of the avocado: by slicing only the amount of avocado that will be used and then keeping the rest sorted in a tightly closed plastic bag, the amount of oxidation is minimalized. What does oxidized avocado look like? Avocado to the left of the pit is oxidized; to the right, it is not. Oh and only peel what has been sliced.
Then a little later, mom came back from supermom grocery shopping that took maybe 15 minutes to find vegetables and other yummies for dinner. She decided to help tidy up the backyard a little, so I felt responsible for making breakfast. She wanted pancakes.

I cheat. I use pancake mix, because we don’t eat pancakes that often, so it makes no sense for me to keep buttermilk and such ingredients in my refrigerator since I’ll never use most of it. I like mixing by fluffing the mix with a fork (aka sifting without a seive,) then making a well before added the water. Then it’s just fold, fold and fold…like laundry, but less work. Sometimes I let it sit to watch the bubbles form; good bubbles means the mix is still fresh. We like bubbles, because it tells us our leavening agent is working. Yay.

See, when I make pancakes, they’re almost the size of the plate. When mom makes pancakes, they’re exactly the size of the plate, or larger. Note the uneven browning. It means the heating source was not even.
My mom has been wanting a new stove for a while (though I recently heard her say it.) Please feel free to donate to the Loretta’s-mom-would-like-a-new-stove fund at any time.

I had leftover batter. What happens when we have a miniscule amount of pancake batter left???

Behold! It’s a pancake baby.

Bubbles are a good indicator of when to flip– when the batter slows down with its bubbles, it’s pretty much time to flip. Sometimes I lift it a little to make sure the other side to a nice golden-brown color. Failure to pass the mom-approval with golden-brownness will often lead to complaints filed by the mom department.

While making breakfast for my brother and my mom (no, I did not forget dad; he’s just three time zones away at the moment,) I made breakfast for myself. In the microwave.

Yeah, I know you’re probably thinking: But you always have oatmeal. Well, I think this is the first time I actually let it really, fully cook for 3 minutes in the microwave with more than enough water. Then I let it sit on top of said microwave, while dealing with my little pancake circus act.

The result was super-smooth and fluffy oatmeal. For once the rolled-oats were completely cooked and had time to absorb water. What’s more important is that the same oatmeal was not hot, so I did not burn my throat when eating it. I added some coconut flakes and raisins to this one, and it was one of the best bowls of oatmeal I’ve ever eaten.

Ok. Time to get dressed for going out to play. (=