The Friday before last, I went to bed with my mouth watering for gluten-free toast, fried eggs, and thick-cut bacon, plus my usual 8 ounces of coffee. When my eyes opened the next morning, a smile formed on my lips before I could even form a conscious thought. Special breakfast day!
It wasn't until I got to the kitchen that I remembered this vexation:
The night before, I'd made the mistake of leaving the bread on the counter. I'm pretty sure CiCi was the culprit, not only because she is the bigger carb addict between our two cats, but also because she loves to swipe my yarn. It's good that one of us enjoys the yarn because, despite Allyson's patient tutelage, I have not had the perseverance to master crocheting.
So, no toast. At least there was still coffee....
Except there wasn't. When I opened the tap on my Berkey water filter, only about an ounce trickled out. I'd forgotten to refill the canister. I considered using tap water just this once despite all of its chlorine, ammonia, and fluoride poisons, but then I realized that I was also out of nut milk. There was no way I'd make almond, cashew, or coconut milk with tap water, so the coffee would have to wait an hour or so until sufficient water had dripped through the filters.
My rumbling stomach pulled my attention back to food. I really didn't want eggs and bacon without some form of bread, and there was no time for pancakes because I needed to work overtime that day. I sighed. Oatmeal would have to do, but we were also out of bananas and apples, my go-to toppings. (If you haven't tried spiced, steamed apples with oatmeal, you're in for a treat.)
I trudged to the cabinet for a measuring cup and then held it under the Berkey spout. Ugh. I'd already forgotten there was no filtered water. A less compulsive person would have used a cup of tap water, but I racked my brain for alternatives....
Yes, how about that cherry juice in the fridge? I could make myself pink oatmeal, like in the good old days when Allyson was a toddler and I cooked it in beet water. It would add some fruity flavor and sweetness, I reasoned--not to mention a burst of antioxidants.
But would it be too syrupy?, I wondered. Maybe I should cut it with water.... Nah, why would I put chemical-laden water into organic juice?
I should have listened to those misgivings. The oatmeal was about as syrupy as a snow cone.
To cut the sweetness, I decided to serve it with a generous splash of kefir, a strong fermented, drinkable yogurt made from raw goat's milk. In addition, a handful of pecans would add both flavor and protein.
So, how was it? This should give you an idea.
Even Arwen turned up her nose at it after a quick sniff. I, on the other hand, had managed to choke down about three bites. It was at once sickly sweet and sour enough to pucker my lips, which was only logical since the juice was made from tart cherries. The sour kefir made it even less palatable.
And that's how I ended up throwing perhaps $3 worth of organic, sprouted oats, organic cherry juice, and pecans down the disposal.
But all was not lost. I savored my freshly ground coffee with freshly made almond milk all the more two hours later.
Do you ever have food fails? What's the worst combination you ever concocted?
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