Lazy Breakfast

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“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what’s the first thing you say to yourself?”

“What’s for breakfast?” said Pooh.
-A. A. Milne

Pooh said it best and I couldn’t agree more. I have long been a self-confessed breakfast fiend. From the humble bowl of cereal to a warm slice of brioche smothered with butter and raspberry jam, breakfast has always been my first thought of the day. Weekends become an excuse to pull out the spatula or mixer and whip up something special. The leftovers, of course, can always be enjoyed (without complaint) on Mondays when I seem to be especially reluctant to get out of bed.

Pancakes were a welcome treat growing up particularly on weekends. They would be generously drizzled with maple syrup or condensed milk (my favourite), rolled up, and neatly cut before ending up on my fork. I still keep up with tradition and enjoy them on the weekend. With a glass of freshly squeezed grapefruit juice, fresh fruit, and an assortment of jams and drizzles to choose from, how could a girl say no?

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