I’m walking a fine line today. If I lived in the north, they might say, “You’re skating on thin ice.” A chicken farmer might tell me I’m walking on eggshells. Well, that’s all water under the bridge. I think I’m on an idiom kick. I hear an inner voice screaming mercy, mercy. Okay, I give in no more idioms, but like they say, you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, that is unless you use Eggbeaters. I’m going to take a break.
I took a five-minute break, finished my third cup of coffee. I should have had the third cup before I began writing. When you’re living alone, breakfast for two has all kinds of implications. I’ll let someone else run with that thought. I’m talking breakfast for two days, more or less. Cut me a little slack here.
I’m going to make enough oatmeal for two meals. I don’t want to ruin lunch or dinner, so the oatmeal remains fixed on the breakfast menu. Here’s how I start. You need the basics: Oatmeal, a cylinder like microwaveable container, and measuring cups. I have no idea why I included the measuring cups. Since I’m a guy, eyeballing is the way I measure. I put measuring cups in the photo in case the Food Channel or the breakfast police want to write a citation.
Reading the above photo from left to right, that’s the way I normally read unless I’m bored. I tip the oatmeal container sideways, resting it’s side on my container (A crucial bit of information you’ll never hear from Bobby Flay) and let gravity do its work. I think I got about the right amount in the container. I’m holding my fingers apart, I want to give you an accurate measure, Try two and half to three inches of oatmeal. Middle photo. I feel like singing the blues – blueberries that blueberries that blueberries that blueberries that
Middle photo. I feel like singing the blues – blueberries that is. I tilt a bag of frozen blues, give it a shake and hope the whole darn bag doesn’t fly out. I’m in luck, it looks like a dozen, mas o meno. The last part is Tex Mex talk for more or less. Here’s the tricky part, add H2O, agua, or water. The last two are adequate substitutes for H2O. It’s an eyeball thing. Take it to about a half inch about the mixings. I like thick oatmeal, if you like it thin, add more water. Who am I to judge how you like your oatmeal?
I put the container in the microwave, topless. Hey, it’s oatmeal! I set the timer for two minutes or hit jet start four times. Keep an eye on it or you’ll have a cleanup and have to start over unless you want to put the microwave glass in the fridge overnight. It’ll take it about a minute and fifteen seconds to start climbing the tower. That’s plenty of time text, email, check your 401k, see what’s playing on Netflix, or daydream. Get ready. Get right in front of the microwave unless you have a pacemaker. I wait until the oatmeal is flirting with the edge of the container. I hit off and remove the oatmeal. It shrinks. I screw the top on and let it sit on the counter for five minutes. Why five? I don’t know. I remember the five tables were easy to learn in third grade. I then set it in the fridge with a couple of its buddies to thicken up overnight. In my fridge, it’s sitting between iced tea and wheat germ and Eggbeaters. I show the wheat germ and Eggbeaters to discourage company.
Below, the photo on the left is my two oatmeal breakfasts. WARNING, It’s going to come out of the fridge like a clump. It reminds me of some of the guys who went to school with me (not to worry, they’re doing time – only kidding – I think). I take a knife and fork and mush (guy speak) the clumps up so they look like real oatmeal. I put cinnamon on each. One gets saran wrap over it. The other goes in the microwave for 1 minute. I pull that baby out and drizzle honey over it. If you think this is all I eat for breakfast – no way – I’m a growing boy. I’ll leave the add-ons to your imagination and healthy tastes. Enjoy your Breakfast Bonanza.