more important to
make a good cup of coffee
and good piece of toast
Adapted from the line “It’s more important to make a very good cup of coffee and a very good piece of toast than it is to worry about Josef Stalin, because I can something about breakfast and I can’t do anything about Stalin, and I am sure he’s having a wonderful breakfast.” from WLT: A Radio Romance by Garrison Keillor (Viking Press, New York, 1991).
I have used this quote a lot but that is okay as I have written about my morning toast a lot.
Monday, like most Monday’s bring enough to start the day just being Monday without the rest of the things in life crawling out of the cupboard.
The coffee had made itself correctly and was sitting there waiting for me to pour a cup.
But what next?
I first went an opened the blinds to let in the morning but when I turned around the question of what next was still waiting to be answered.
I opened tablet to read my Bible and read, “But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness.” James 3:17-18 (New International Version).
And that made me smile which is a good way to start a day.
This was a day worth starting with toast.
I can’t do much about what is going on in this world and I certainly can’t do much about the current person in office but I know that feller is not worried about me though if he happened to read that verse, I would think he might have few things to worry about.
I am not even sure he is having a wonderful breakfast.
And I am going to make some very good toast.
I have a head start on the very good toast game as I am using bread I bake just for these moments.
Got out the bread board and my bread knife, picked a place on the loaf that I baked on Saturday (after getting home from the beach) about 1/4 inch wide and start cutting, letting the knife do the work and in seconds I have 2 perfect slices of bread.
Not your whimpy store bought plastic wrapped bread.
But bread with meaning and with heft to it and a thick crust.
Into the toaster and push down and the warm red light glows out the top of the toaster’s slots along with the wonderful smell of toasting bread.
My recipe for perfect toast is that I need to toast it twice.
Once it pops up, down it goes for another cycling of toasting.
The second time it pops up, the bread carries the heat so well, you can burn your fingers if you aren’t careful when you move to the plate.
Then I cover every surface part of the toast with butter.
Butter that melts quickly and sinks into the crust and the light brown, beautifully toasted surface.
Then I cut the slices into two halves, fill my coffee cup and start my day.
You have to respect toast made this way.
No jelly, no spreads.
Single bites and each bite chewed slowly, savoring the butter and the crunch.
Respect the toast.
Then coffee, then bite of toast, sit back and chew and think.
It is true.
It’s more important to make a very good cup of coffee and a very good piece of toast than it is to worry about Josef Stalin, because I can something about breakfast and I can’t do anything about Stalin, and I am sure he’s having a wonderful breakfast.
No Haiku For You 