Breakfast Adventures

We have had some very interesting breakfasts lately.  For instance, a couple of days ago, we tried our hands at preparing Schmuphffles, a traditional Yugoslavian breakfast food.  I am happy to report that they turned out beautifully.  Schmuphffles resemble muffins and are baked in a muffin tin, but they are blackened on the bottom, gooey in the middle, with a dense, chewey outside.  The tops are slightly rounded when they first come out of the oven, but they immediately collapse and take on a fascinating crackled patina. Schmuphffles are made in many flavors, but the traditional Yugoslavian favorites are pear and turnip with walnuts and lamb's brain with lemon rind. We opted for the slightly less traditional pumpkin chocolate chip.  

Schmuphffles are very important to Yugoslavians.  Every little village and hamlet has its own Schmuphfflery, where a Master Schmuphffler bakes them fresh every morning.  The Yugoslavian nobility has their own Court Schmuphffler, who supplies the royal family with the finest Schmuphffles in the land, and hosts the annual Schmuphfflefest, where Schmuphfflers come from far and wide to learn from each other and compete in the Great Schmuphffle Bake-Off.  The Champion Schmuphffler is awarded a year's supply of lamb's brain and a new baking kiln. This festival is the most celebrated national holiday in that country, and thousands of festive Yugoslavians come to join in the celebration every year.   

 

To the uneducated eye, Schmuphffles may simply seem to be what happens when one person mixes the dry ingredients and one person mixes the wet, accidentally using two different recipes, but we know better. 

This morning, we had another breakfast adventure.  We had tentatively planned to go to the lake this morning and have a breakfast picnic, but the weather turned out a touch too cold.  So instead, we spread a blanket on the living room floor.  We had half a rustic sourdough loaf leftover, so I made some exceptionally tasty french toast with it, topped with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and maple syrup and a mound of fresh strawberries and whipped cream. It was, if I may be permitted to brag, tasty tasty tasty tasty tasty.  Especially when paired with some good black tea.  Anyway, we took all this into the living room, and then when we sat down something incredible happened. Turns out, that grey blanket of Dan's is magical.  There was a whoosh and a crackle, and all of a sudden we found ourselves seated with our picnic beneath a gnarled tree on a rolling hill of daisies, watching the sun rise over the snow-capped Alps. The verdant valley below us was dotted with charming farmhouses, each surrounded with lushly cultivated fields and gardens. A gurgling stream ran nearby, and nightingales sang in the tree above us as the morning mist cleared from the fields.  We had brought several volumes of poetry along, so we sat and read poetry and ate our tasty tasty tasty tasty tasty breakfast for a couple of hours, until a magnificent storm rolled in over the brooding mountaintops. We quickly gathered up our things and ran as fast as we could through the plashing rain and swelling thunder until we reached a nearby farm and took shelter in the hayloft.  It was a lovely picnic. 

And now you see what I mean about adventuresome breakfasts.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!