Welcome to March. That point in the winter when you wonder why you have chosen to relocate to a frozen tundra when you lived in Sydney, Australia not six months ago. While it is true that I miss the fine weather and the white-sand beaches I could never sacrifice the community I current have here in Toronto for a sun-tan.
When I was little my Dad would often prepare elaborate breakfasts for us before school. Most kids I knew started their day with cereal. Whereas my siblings and I enjoyed omelettes, french toast and crepes. No pancake mix from a box. No canned fruit on the side. My father made everything from scratch with fresh ingredients. My mum, who is not a chef, but remains an excellent cook followed suit. We feasted like kings almost every morning.
Now, I realize how lucky we were to grow up with parents who were willing to dedicate an enormous amount of time to our morning routine. These days, most families find themselves rushing off to work and school with barely enough to time to gulp down sludge from a never-gonna-expire-tetra-pack. I say this without judgement. We have all been down the instant breakfast path. Cereal is cheaper than fresh fruit. Toast is faster than pancakes. Pop tarts can be delicious in a creepy kind of way. People are short on cash and pressed for time so breakfast is liquified or processed or simply passed over altogether. French toast with fresh fruit is something you order at brunch or something.
Like baking bread or canning, preparing stock from scratch is a lovely ritual that prevents food waste and can be incorporated into your regular routine.