Editors’ Note: We’re very excited to have a guest post today from Aimee Bourque, who blogs her culinary escapades at Under the High Chair; great food guaranteed, clean floors unlikely.
I think we can all agree, breakfast should be a tranquil start to our day. Whether you like your mornings to begin with merely the perfect muffin or prefer a full-on trucker’s breakfast, assaults on the senses are not welcome, nor, I’ve discovered, are conversations with a three-year-old.
On an average Saturday morning in my house, I take the path of least resistance in hopes of maintaining the peace. This means serving up something featuring bread and covered in our own harvested maple syrup for the little monkeys—with bacon of course. (We’re talking about my offspring here—they’ve embraced bacon without hesitation; as for the maple syrup, well, we are Canadian, after all.) All week we’ve slogged through balanced meals, fighting bite for bite, and now I just want them to hush up and eat up while I wake up.
This Deep Dish Blueberry French Toast is assembled the night before so the only real effort required in the morning is to bake and serve. Unfortunately, the simplicity of this breakfast dish doesn’t guarantee the sought after ‘Zen’ morning. Case in point on a recent weekend: I have just pulled a bubbling French toast from the oven and things are shaping up nicely—that is, until my pre-schooler wakes up.
No ‘good morning’, no hugs, he stumbles out of his room with this announcement:
“Mummy, I just made a little bit of barf in my mouth.”
He can’t say his ‘R’s and so he says ‘barf’ with what sounds like a British accent. BAwf.
Wordlessly, I hand him his sippy cup with apple juice and glance at his father, who is present at the kitchen table but hidden behind the newspaper. As expected, there is no response from him. Uh huh, selective hearing.
My son continues:
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