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 The
French are known for their fine cuisine. The lavish lunches and
sumptuous dinners are legendary. But breakfast, or le petit déjeuner,
might seem to get short shift, to the dismay of traveler’s coming
from places where breakfast is a more elaborate affair. I remember
as a tourist in France, I felt so French having a baguette or
croissant for breakfast, smearing jam and butter on either, enjoying it
with a frothy café au
lait (that, sadly, I learned wasn’t a bottomless cup…)
and the tiniest glass of orange juice that I’d ever seen. But
by Day #3, I started craving a scrambled eggs and hash browns, and
– mais oui
– a side of crisp bacon.
I was
never really a huge breakfast eater, though. No steak and eggs for
me, or corned beef hash and huevos rancheros. Usually I saved
those for weekend brunch. After a night of being a line cook in a very
busy restaurant, breakfast was a quick cup of dark coffee and
maybe a half-bagel or some other carb. As the years of eating the
diet of a line cook (which is everything you can manage to stuff in
your mouth in the shortest amount of time), to get back into
reasonable shape, I joined a workout group and the instructor came
around one day, and asked each of us what we had for breakfast. Most of
us got yelled at for not eating enough, including me.
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