Saturday morning would not be the same without this beautiful scene. It might not be the most healthy- even though it’s all organic- or the most original but it’s become an institution.
Opening the fridge on a Friday creates conflicting emotions, on one side there’s the excitement of some great ingredients sitting there waiting to be fried grilled or in someway warmed to release their captivating aromas and flavors but then you remember it’s Friday. You can’t cook these little beauties at six on a friday night, nor can you split them up, there a team, a tribe waiting to set saturday off to a flying start.
Coming down to the kitchen on Saturday morning is like a six year old coming downstairs on christmas morning, it’s exciting. I lay out the ingredients on the table, fetch the eggs from the coop and make a cup of tea. Now even though I like many have cooked this meal many times, perusing the separate ingredients with a brew in one hand is necessary not to decide how each will be dealt with, no that’s set in stone, it’s to give thanks.
Next my two favorite skillets come out, cast iron beauties there like my Sunday best. The kettles back on and so is the grill and two hobs, once butter hits the pan the song of frying begins. Bacon’s on, sausages under, tomatoes and mushrooms sliced, beans and eggs waiting. The song gets louder the smells intoxicate the senses and a trance like state is reached and then what would seem to the uninitiated to be a frenzy of scrambling, kettle reboiling, peppering, burning, fat spitting and bubbling chaos ceases, the fat quietens the kitchen cools. It’s done.
Like a monk illuminating pages I arrange the what until now have been separate ingredients, into a meal I make then one. All that is left for the eater to decide is their personal choice of condiment, it’s not fundamentalism after all.
It’s not about whether you believe in hash browns or not, or accept fried tomatoes as a second helping, it’s that your there letting it into your life. Monday could be poached eggs Tuesdays I’m open to some experimental thing with leftovers but Saturday’s full.