Thursday, April 5, 2012

Mushrooms and eggs for breakfast--Fat bugger 9?

It’s Good Friday (NZ time) and I pass on my best wishes to those who hold this day as special, It is ‘good’ in many other ways too; for the simple act of a simple breakfast, the sun looks like it is going to shine all day and that I have been accepted by a group of new friends in the USA. I don’t think I will be getting away with opinionated, prattish (is that a word?) comments anymore, because they are up and ready to give it right back. Of course my reason for making them (my ‘blog statements) was to stimulate discussion. When I read some of the replies to my messages to this group on Facebook, I thought I had ‘come home.’ That so makes me confident that most Americans are NOT part of the ‘deliverance’ (in more ways than one), right wing, intolerant, narrow minded, loony bible bashing crowd---oh you get the picture, I better stop there.
What an enlightening online gathering they are. I wonder if they ever meet. Their dinner parties would be an antidote to a Republican/Tea Party experience. One would start to think that as long as these friends continue their discussions, there will always be hope. The candle is indeed burning---perpetually.
I was woken by Perdy this morning (She’s our Jack Russell Terrorist) and I allowed her to sleep on the bed last night because my partner was doing an overnighter at the hotel). Perdy starting ‘stirring about 5.30 and I tried to ignore her. Around six, she sort of figured that the day was ‘like a weekend’ or holiday (we are on holiday for two weeks in NZ schools).
At first it was a few scratching and doggie grooming. She cleans her bits and pieces and pretends she has fleas. (Those tablets better be working). Then she turns her attention to me and assumes that I need a shower. Thank God she’s not a huge dog or I would have drowned. When I did not respond by jumping (OK I lie---I dragged myself out of bed) to my feet and taking her for a walk, she decided on another strategy. She began to molest in a most brutal way a huge Panda that I didn’t know was on the floor on the other side of the bed. Things were quiet for about twenty minutes and it was only after I went to the lounge that I found poor Panda. OMG--- if I was in China, I think it would be the death penalty, even though Panda isn’t blood and flesh. Perdy had extracted an eye and an ear. I hid the evidence in the extra room which is such an abundance of clutter that it may be months before Panda is discovered and by then, maybe I may have found a substitute.  I ain’t owning up to that one.
My next priority-----?  breakfast, my reason for getting up on a holiday. The terrorist, looking guilty (NOT) could wait. I remembered that had some little flat mushrooms, and some eggs from a colleague, who lives on a peninsula outside Auckland (look it up--- it is the Awhitu Peninsula). It is almost the mushroom season in NZ. Sometimes I purchase the real thing--- mushrooms growing wild on farms and picked by entrepreneurs who then sell them on the side of the road in a few positions in Auckland. I crave that time of the year, to the point that my sister and I now consider this time as a special celebratory time of the year.
I would have used butter to cook the mushrooms and the only reason I didn’t was that I didn’t have any, so I settled for a PC version of an Olive oil spread. Once the mushrooms were sizzling, I added two of the eggs and made some toast. (MMMM--- I shall use the bread-maker for the next two weeks--- recipes for my famous seed bread coming in a future blog). I have a coffee machine, another of my many ‘foodie passions,’ and I make sure that my coffee beans are never more than a week old. I ground the beans and extracted the creamy brown delight, then produced a silky milk topping for my flat white. If any of my new friends in the USA ever get to NZ, I shall introduce you to this wonderful Antipodean (that’s NZ and Aussie) tradition. There is a shared discovery of this way of making coffee, something between a latte and a cappuccino. Our two nations continually debate the origins of the drink, just like we do with Pavlova (another story).
I fed Perdy and Jasmine, our long suffering cat, knowing that unless I did, there would be no peace as I attempted to eat my breakfast. I should have given Perdy a soft brisket bone, because that takes longer for her to consume, unlike the two seconds she takes to eat her wet food. I intended to take a good deal longer to have my breakfast.
Twenty minutes later (you know I am telling a porky), after taking my time to have my mushrooms and eggs, I am writing this, looking out the window at the sun which is living up to its promise to shine forever, and wondering where Perdy and I will go for our walk. See--- it does have a link to my ‘Fat Bugger series!
If any of my colleagues from work are reading this--- have a great day---- one of many in this holiday time.