Spring Forward

The spiritual reading today said "Strengthen your will." I said, okay, I'll try, nothing to lose, and after my in-room coffee made the bed and dressed myself at once for the 6:30 p.m. ballet class, my favorite -- because then I won't have to change later. Without much back-and-forth or cellphone reading I willfully decided -- because the dawning day was wildly beautiful, the forsythia and tree buds all popping, the blue and white hyacinths in full bloom, the air clear and fresh -- to take a walk at Glassberg Conservation Area. One mile into the walk there's a fantastic vista of the Meramec River valley. Then one mile back.

Bluebells, violets, spring beauty, the white daisy-like flowers of the bloodroot, the first dappled leaves of the trillium -- all suddenly existed. Walking was easy and puddles few because gravel was recently shoveled over some well-worn parts of the path. There's a wooden bridge and some stepping stones across a creek tributary. The sun dribbled light into the narrow stream. It was 9:00 a.m. A sleeveless shirt was perfect. In the photo I'm relaxing alongside an energetic little waterfall with clear fresh icy water. How good!

After this willful walk I willfully fixed a full breakfast and ate it on the porch in perfect weather with singing birds alongside. This breakfast was a victory -- toast and egg and all that.

I had willfully washed and dried my new cotton nightgown, a great bargain, that arrived with sleeves four inches too long. I willfully set up the ironing board -- usually it might take me five weeks to feel like doing it, but I was strengthening my will -- and secured the ruler, shears and pins to shorten the sleeves, and hemmed the sleeves with iron-on sticky tape rather than needle and thread, although needle and thread might have been quicker. Finished in an hour.

Then I went willfully to work on my work. Did okay. Then fixed a banana-yogurt-peanut butter-coffee shake for lunch. Then wanted to get lazy. Just for today, I won't be. I need a hummingbird feeder (birds arrive around April 24; males have arrived as early as the 12th). After ballet class I will go get one.

Breakfast Alfresco

"What would be fun?" I asked myself and could not come up with an answer. This is very abnormal because I think everything is fun, from hikes to mud to old trucks to blizzards. How else could it be, living in the world's most wonderful place?

When nothing came to mind, I tried another tactic: If I was in love, what would I be doing right now at 8 a.m.?

-I'd be serving breakfast to the loved one.
-I'd make this breakfast from the very best I had, to be the best and most memorable breakfast in the world, all for love.
-I'd skimp on nothing nor would I care about calories, because my loved one is perfect as is and thinks I am perfect too. So I'd use real butter and the works and serve enough to fuel the loved one all morning long.
-I wouldn't care about the number of bowls, pans, dishes, paper towels, or anything.
-I'd go to great lengths, even trotting everything outside to the red picnic table a total of four round trips, to have breakfast in the ideal quintessential vividly green July morning, the grass perfectly mown so any chiggers would have to leap really high to bite me behind the knees.

With day-old French bread, plus eggs, milk, sugar and cinnamon, syrup and some (uncured, excellent, local) bacon I'd frozen and forgotten about, I fixed the imaginary loved one the best possible breakfast and served it in the shade beneath the twin oaks. Then I ate it, in the company of one bumblebee attracted by the fragrance of syrup. Oh yes, memorable. I ought to do this every day for a year.

Luck of the Coffee Drinker

Used to be, Mom bought our clothes at Robert Hall and food at the A & P supermarket, home of lost or now rare enchantments such as the Spanish Bar Cake and red tins of Eight o' Clock Coffee, alongside the foreign and fascinating adults-only object (pictured) resembling a nautical speed control but engraved with weird, haunting, perhaps mystical words; Mom never used it. Today I stock only 2 brands of ground coffee: Eight o' Clock, and Chock Full o' Nuts. These passions are old, deeply set, and based solely on the names and packaging. At eight a.m., all things are possible; I still believe that. Out east, the franchise "Chock Full o' Nuts," so named because it started as a chain of roasted-nut shops in Manhattan, has sold coffee and pastries since 1932. In New England I became addicted to Chock Full coffee, rare and expensive in Missouri, consistently available at only one classy St. Louis grocery at $6-$8 for a small can. I remedied this by ordering a case of the regular coffee direct from Chock Full; the green-lidded decaf was harder to find.

I drink more of the decaf now, when I can get it. The last tin I bought is tagged $6.49. So last week in a supermarket in House Springs I'm stunned to see the "marked down" shelf holding 5 cans of Chock Full decaf at $2.99 each. Ecstatically I bought them all. It was the best luck I had all day.

Selling it here isn't easy because the Chock Full franchise, still active, never extended west of Chicago and the name causes folks to believe the coffee contains nuts. It does not.

It might be the "o"s in the middle of Eight o' Clock and Chock Full o' Nuts  that have so entangled my coffee-drinkin' heart.

A Night in the Kitchen

You know how you clip recipes and buy ingredients and time flies and those new recipes don't happen despite your best intentions--I always do that, especially when experimenting with the meatless, wheatless, or otherwise far-out, trying to advance my repertoire and learn. Last night I quit everything else and caught up.

Starting with the martini glass and going clockwise: That's Coffee Jello from food.com, topped with tofu whipped cream from the cookbook How It All Vegan. It's as good as it looks and takes 15 minutes. Delicious for breakfast. Next is a plate with three Strawberry-Coconut cookies, wheat-free, gluten-free and Paleo. Replacing white flour is coconut flour and ground flaxseed; coconut oil replaces butter; add unsweetened shredded coconut and chopped strawberries. A single one of these dense rich cookies satisfies. The round pita-like thing is a "Wheatbelly" (faddish no-grains diet) flaxseed wrap. Make the batter with ground flaxseeds, oil, an egg, and a spoonful of water, pour batter into a greased glass pie plate, microwave for 2 minutes, and I call this a new way to eat my morning egg: about 250 calories.You can make several at once and fridge them. In the yellow bowl is part of the result of 45 minutes of quartering a stack of 30 corn tortillas (cost: $2 and some) and baking them as chips. I planned to make my own salsa but then found a can of readymade. To its right you see a spatula's worth of Chicken Enchiladas, my meaty "Chicken of the Woods" wild mushrooms replacing the chicken. Served to a gaunt, sallow, and very picky vegetarian who loved it but ate it at room temp rather than letting me nuke it. Original recipe from Farm Journal's Great Home Cooking in America (1976; buy the hardback), the first cookbook I ever owned. Thanks, Mom. In the fall I wow guests with its Concord Grape Pie (page 83). In the green cup, egg-drop soup with fresh ginger, shown before I stirred the egg in.

All are wheat-free. Except for the jello, all are white-sugar-free and vegetarian. I'm an omnivore but have friends with every sort of dietary need.

The Variety Pack

I first saw single-serving cereal boxes at age 9 at scout camp, and you could lay the box on its side, clip the cardboard, slit the wax paper, pour milk in, and your box was the bowl. Was that true, or did I dream it? I vowed that when I grew up I'd buy cereal only in those cool little boxes. Yesterday, 45 years later, the Kellogg's Variety Pack at the store caught my eye. Three dollars. Bought it. It is fascinating. Ten cereal boxes are packaged back to back. Facing out on one side are all the good-for-you cereals, including "Crispix," a contemporary cereal as strange to me as contemporary art; the other side marshals the candied cereals we grew up on: Frosted Flakes, Froot Loops, Corn Pops, Sugar Coated Sugar Cubes. And also the Raisin Bran, sweeter than one might think. This two-faced packaging sends a cultural message I can't quite decode. Is it giving me a choice between being a kid and a grownup, or a sinner and a saint? Omnivorous vs. orthodox? Duty or decadence? Or--is it all random and meaningless? Good Lord, the Kellogg's Variety Pack is a moral problem and a spiritual exercise! And then--oh wow, man, blow my mind--both sides have Frosted Mini-Wheats!

So which to eat first? I chose Raisin Bran. It filled a teacup, not enough for breakfast, so I also ate the Corn Pops. Eating the Froot Loops I think will require extensive psychological and spiritual preparation.

True Grits

Grits are like a cross between mashed potatoes and cream of wheat -- warm, filling, milky (if you put milk on) and buttery (if you put butter on). Can't do without em.

These are Quaker but aren't instant. I put em in the bowl with water/milk, and microwave for 6 minutes, 66 seconds (easy to remember, easy to key in). Dab the butter on last for maximum butter buzz. The other brand I eat is Jim Dandy.

Hot grain cereals in general, for breakfast, plus some fresh fruit, can fuel you pleasantly all morning. Makes me feel like Wonder Woman. Try it; don't turn up your nose. Grits are corn and good for you. It doesn't remind me of a bowl of vomit the way oatmeal does. I can handle oatmeal only rarely, and prefer it baked with milk and egg into a sort of pudding, with raisins or other dried fruit in it.