It's 5am. My family is asleep. I slide out of bed, creep down the stairs, and enter the kitchen. Through the window, faint light dapples the horizon, teasing a rising sun.

I turn on the stove. While it heats, I prepare my station. A knife. A bowl. An old plastic mixing fork.

I inspect the fork. It is old and worn and made of cheap plastic. I don't remember where it came from, perhaps a dollar store. It seemed like something we've always had, following us from home to home to home, always finding its own place to settle amidst our ever-changing lives.

I like this fork.

The dogs grow restless. They wonder if I have forgotten them. I have not. I fill their bowls with food and water. They thank me with wagging tails. I return to—Oh right, the cat. I haven't forgotten you either. Heh. Sorry about that. Here you go.

I return to the kitchen. I can smell hot metal. It's time.

Oil. Hashbrowns. Sizzle. Nice.

I lean my back against the counter and close my eyes. The oil crackles on the stovetop. The rest of the world is still. The day ahead will hold many moments for many people, but this one belongs to me.

I open my eyes. The sun is showing a bit more of itself now. It peeks through the window and spies on me. It wants to know how I make my eggs.

One egg. Crack. Two egg. Crack. Three egg. Crack. Into the bowl they go. A splash of milk. The mixing fork does its job. Around and around and around. Good job, fork.

I turn back to face the sun. Soon, the Earth will finish a single rotation and the sun will rise high into the sky. It has completed this ritual 1.6 trillion times. More times than every breath I will ever take.

I hear a creak from above. My family is awake. They come down the stairs. My wife smiles. My son smiles. I smile. Away they go. They have rituals of their own to attend to. The sun, the fork, and I will attend to ours.

I dump the eggs onto the hashbrowns. The mixing fork does its job yet again. Fried salami joins the fray. I top it all with melted cheese. Nice. I grab plates, utensils, napkins, and orange juice. The ritual is complete.

In the next room, my wife has finished feeding our son. I set her breakfast down. She thanks me. She doesn't know I'm the one thanking her.

I sit down beside her and grab a remote. I press shuffle. The music plays. David Bowie. Nice.

♫ I heard the news today, oh boy
I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain't there a man who can say no more?
And, ain't there a woman I can sock on the jaw?
And, ain't there a child I can hold without judging?
Ain't there a pen that will write before they die?
Ain't you proud that you've still got faces?
Ain't there one damn song that can make me
Break down and cry? ♫

We eat our breakfast. The sun has risen. The world is awake.

Today will hold many moments. But this one is ours.

Years ago, circa 2017, I spent a few weeks in Portland, OR for work. Naturally, I ended up at Jeffrey Morgenthaler's Clyde Common regularly. On one of the weekends, I went to Common for brunch and they served a "breakfast" cocktail in glass coke bottles. From memory it was sweet, earthy, rich with slight chocolate hints, mildly carbonated, and strong. It was totally different from most breakfast cocktails that opt for bright and citrus flavors (i.e. mimosas, bloody Marys) and I think the carbonation definitely helped soften the otherwise heavy design of this drink.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to ask about the cocktail's construction and Common closed shortly after. Recently, I've been trying to recreate it from memory, or more generously, recreate the idea of it (short of Morgenthaler himself identifying the cocktail, there's no way I'll be able to reproduce it). My best guess is that he made something close to a black Russian and ran it through a carbonator.

Here are my thoughts to riff off of that type of drink for a strong breakfast cocktail:
2 oz Bourbon, 1 oz Mr. Black, .5 oz Amaretto, .5 oz Maple Syrup, topped with carbonated water, built neat in a highball glass. I'm still tweaking the proportions, but given that Mr. Black is less sweet than other coffee liqueurs, and considering the dilution from carbonated water, I think a half/half mix of Amaretto and Maple Syrup is sweet without being cloying. I also went with Amaretto instead of another syrup like orgeat to keep the alcohol content higher.

Any thoughts? Other ideas in a similar vein?

Lately I've been trying to be better about cooking a decent breakfast for myself every morning instead of grabbing sugary stuff at a coffee shop, blowing money for something fancier, or wolfing down a breakfast bar.

I'm also trying to be a boring adult and limit my sugar intake, avoid gluten on account I'm apparently at risk for celiac disease, and would like to try and be vegan whenever possible.... couple this with me being incredibly lazy and us not having a dishwasher in our apartment, and I've got what feels like very few options.

For the past two months, every weekday I've been crumbling firm tofu over a heated pan set to medium, throwing in some paprika, turmeric, salt, garlic & onion powder, nutritional yeast, stirring that up a bit for five minutes, and then ripping up a cup of pre-packaged kale/spinach leaves over it before taking it off the heat and tossing in a tablespoon of oat milk. I'll then eat half and leave the other for my wife.

It's been OK, but I'm trying to look into other options just to add some variety, and was curious if someone else has found something that works for them that I might be able to piggyback off of for inspiration.

A little tradition I picked up in the German reddit community: The "Montagmorgen Pfosten".

It's a thread someone (just whoever notices that there isn't one yet) posts around 6 to 8 am on Mondays where users talk about and discuss their weekends, what they are going to do in this week, what they had for breakfast etc. (I've coordinated it with CDT instead of CEST, given that most of the user base here is american or Canadian as opposed to r/de on reddit, where nearly everyone is in Germany, Austria or Switzerland; It is 1 pm in Germany right now). I've always liked participating in that thread as an unstressed way to start the week, and thought that we maybe could implement something similar here on ~talk.

I, for one, spent the weekend visiting my parents, and am now looking forward to spending a week working from within the hardly air conditioned glass cube my boss calls "Office" while being slowly roasted by the ungodly heat outside. Also, right about now, I wish Past-Me had taken the time to have some breakfast. Stupid Past-Me.

How are you?