Sunday, October 7, 2007

Sunday Morning Potatoes

OK, now I know there's something Proustian about this, but bear with me.

Most weeks, I eat a boring combination of cereal and fruit with a glass of juice. Sunday morning Big Breakfasts have a special place in my heart (right near my left ventricle, I'm sure).

That's the day my husband and I like to eat all manner of eggs, or waffles, or anything else that we consider a breakfast specialty — pretty much anything we never have during the rush-hour that is the weekday morning.

Today, as I woke up to the sound of birds singing and inhaled the glorious smell of bacon.

Better yet, I could tell that my husband had been making homemade home fries — diced yukon golds with carmelized onions, a little dried rosemary and plenty of salt. Yum.

Those home fries — in all their golden, crispy, oily crackliness — beckoned, in shades of brown and tan and amber... All colors that would make a great
necklace. A necklace that conjures up thoughts of Sunday morning breakfast deliciousness.