Two bowls come down from the highest shelf. They are the same size, one is grey, and the other a light brown. I pull out one carton of eggs (only two are left). Luckily we went grocery shopping yesterday, so we have a full carton (cage free,, and organic). It is November 16th 2014, and the sky is crystal blue. I love the clear, cold, windy weather, and looking up threw our kitchen skylight it is just a frame for all deep blue. Looking out my kitchen window I see a young teenager boy walking by. He's walking fast, and seems to be on a mission, and so am I. I realize nothing can continue until I get some coffee going. I'm reminded of this by the boys urgency. So I reach down to the lowest cupboard, and retrieve one medium saucepan. I fill it close to the top, put it on a burner, and turn it up to hi. Reaching high again I grab my scale. Setting it on the counter I turn and reach for some coffee. A fine "Costa Rican Montes De Oro" is the java of the day. This coffee was cultivated by Emilio Gamboa on three farms: Carrizal, El Rosario, and Teresita. The Gamboas leave 5-10% of the mucilage on the bean when they remove the fruit of the cherry, which rides the line between washed processed, and honey processed to create a sweeter and more viscous cup. When brewed properly a lavender bouquet transforms into flavors of Rainier cherry, cranberry, cider, lemon, and chocolate with characteristics of honey.
I weigh out exactly 22 grams of whole bean. Pouring that portion into my Encore grinder. Grinding my whole bean into the consistency of salt. Now I reach for a middle shelf just above shoulder height. That's where I keep my Beehouse pour over piece of china. This fits perfectly on top of a clean glass Ball Mason jar. Together they both sit on the scale, and wait to be fed. In the pour over I place one #4 Melitta coffee filter. Now my water is coming to a nice boil, and outside the wind kicks up, and the leaves hurricane around, and the sky stays blue. It's important to pour a little hot water over the filter first. This washes all paper taste from the filter, and warms up the Mason jar. After doing this I dump the ground coffee into the filter. I pour the boiling water into a measuring cup. Now it's important to let the water cool for a second. You do not want to dump boiling water onto your coffee, 198 degrees is good. I pour just a small amount into the filter. This is called the blooming process, and you must let that small amount fully saturate the coffee. Then give it 30 seconds before you start the full pour over process. Don't foget to turn on your scale before you add water. You will be pouring 420 grams of water for the perfect cup.
While I wait for the coffee to brew I start cracking my eggs. I'm not good at this, and usually end up pulling out some shell. I've just never had the touch for cracking these damn eggs. Looking out my kitchen window my eye catches two women walking west down the hill. If they were to look up and to the right they would see me, and I would smile. They're focused on each other and the road in front of them, not me.
Scrambled eggs, and waffles are on the menu today. Four eggs go into the bowl on the left, and one into the bowl that will become waffle mix. First and foremost the coffee is ready. I pour a cup from the Mason Jar, and add a little cream. It comes to my mind that I'm missing music, so I grab this portable speaker I have. Connecting my iPod I select Bill Callahan's latest album "Dream river". I'm not real big on this album, but it seems like good background breakfast making music. I add a cup or so of waffle mix, tablespoon of vegtable oil, half cup of milk, and a little vanilla. Mixing this up I realize it's still too thick, so I add some more milk. After some whisking the constancy is good. I change my focus to the eggs. Since the milk is out I eye out about 3/4 cup of milk. Then I take a long wonderful swig of coffee. So good! I make that ahhhhh sound. A sound that gives me away as a recovered alcoholic.
Now you have to spice up your eggs. I decide I'm going to dice up some Parmesan Artisan Salami. Then mix in some spicey salsa, and hot red peppers. The red peppers are dried not fresh. I put the frying pan on the burner that just had the boiling water for my sweet coffee. Turning the burner on medium I begin mixing my scrambled eggs with a fork. I do this very violently, and though I abhor violence (ok I'm a boxing fan, and have been known to watch hockey) Agression is well served on these eggs. I plug my waffle maker in, and re-stir my waffle batter. I empty the bowl of eggs (the left bowl) into the frying pan. I add a little low fat mozzarella and reflect. This thought unravels through my mind about my aunt. She has recently lost her husband. Someone that has taken care of her since high school. My uncle, and to a certain level one important male figure in my life. He was 81?, and cancer finally found him. Too many cigs for too long maybe? Anyway she is lost without him. Her mind seems to be coming unglued without him. I look outside and see this tree. It's in our front yard, and is something. Sure is.
The waffle makers light turns on to tell me it's ready to go. I open, and see that I didn't do such a good job cleaning last time I used it. So I use a paper towel, and give it a good rub down. Then I spray some non-stick olive oil just for good measure. Just before I pour the mix into the maker I add some raspberries. Yes now we're ready.
Stirring the eggs my mind is only focused on making this food. Putting together a great breakfast, and drinking this damn fine coffee. Now I reach up to the middle shelf, and grab this small porcelain elephant. I will fill this little guy with pure maple syrup, and when it's time to add this final touch to my waffles it will come out of his snout. The syrup must be heated first, 15 second is all it will take. The eggs are almost done, so I give them another stir or two, and turn of the heat. The waffle maker light turns green, and breakfast is served. I put the waffles, and eggs on a paper plate. I put some butter on the waffles, and take my coffee and a glass of water out to the front room. I open the shades so I can see outside. I then get the syrup, and my plate of food. Walking the very short distance to my chair I put my breakfast on the ottoman, and start to eat.
Slowly thoughts start to crowd up my mind. Breakfast has been a nice distraction, and meditation. But now I start to remember the disappointment of the show on Friday. It didn't go as I had hoped. Leaving me feeling a little down. I didn't get the reaction that I needed. My insecurities bleed back into me, and I see outside it's still beautiful. No clouds, and because of this the daylight is in full bloom. The wind shakes the tree, and it's Sunday.