The breakfast club: Smitten Immigrant

As I try to find ways of eating a more healthy and varied breakfast (my usual breakfast is  almost always the same: toast with butter, peanut butter, or jam and tea with milk), I decided to ask a few of my internet friends and readers to share their favorite breakfast. Today I am honored to present you Pluis, from Smitten Immigrant. By the way, I would love it if you would like to participate in this weekly series, just send a breakfast themed post to: poppiesandicecream@gmail.com

Breakfast of Grandmothers

I'm a breakfast friend, which is a somewhat lonely position. Apparently there are preciously few people who wake up and feel sorely tempted to scoot off to the kitchen to scarf down something edible before even contemplating a shower. So, when Amanda told me about her plans to write about breakfast, I thought I could contribute. Hence, my three routine breakfasts:

1) Weekend Breakfast
2) Breakfast with Puppies
3) Breakfast of Grandmothers

Weekend breakfast: (serves two)
- one leisurely morning
- one tin of pre-made croissant dough (makes 6 small croissants)
- half a banana (for stuffing two of the croissants)
- fifteen minutes of pre-heated oven time
- a little butter
- one spoonful of fig or blackberry jam (for my Beloved)
- two cups of 'espresso lungo' (which is fancy-speak for us making espresso, but letting the water run through the grounds for much longer than any coffee lover would dare confess)
- Beloved and I
- cat pictures and other internet diversions

Breakfast with Puppies (no puppies are harmed in the making of this breakfast)
- 6.30 mornings on which I volunteer at the local dog shelter
- hard work and no lunch until 2 PM
- five table spoons of rolled oats
- two table spoons of dried cranberries (mine come with dried pineapple juice on)
- a pinch of salt
- a good splash of boiling water
- five minutes on low heat
- a good stir
- a spoonful of honey
- cat pictures and other internet diversions
- coffee to go at the train station or instant coffee at the shelter

Breakfast of Grandmothers (crone-like levels of wisdom not guaranteed)
- one average 8.00 AM awakening
- expectation of a normal day with regular meal times
- two slices of ontbijtkoek
- one banana, halved widthwise and lengthwise
- the long perhaps-not-quite-treasured memory of my otherwise kick-ass grandmother lecturing me about the digestive benefits of combining the fibre-rich ontbijtkoek with banana at her breakfast table - cat pictures and other internet diversions
- coffee at home, at work or on the go, depending on the day.

As you can see, I'm not one for inherently healthy breakfasts. I've done a few stints of low-carb and / or dieting and have stared into the soulless depths of a tub of low-fat yoghurt more than once, but substantial breakfasts make me happier.

Oh exercise

Image via Flashback Friday

I have never been the sporty type. Between my clumsiness, lack of coordination and the general daydreaming state in which I often find myself, sports never really appealed to me. Particularly not team sports, where balls often landed right in my face. During high school I took tennis lessons and I also remember enjoying athletism, but I never really did more than what was required, I didn't even try. It's true that I've always tried to be active: take the stairs instead of the lift and walk a lot, but I guess it's not enough.

Lately, the boy has been trying to push me to incorporate exercise in our routine in some way or another, and I agree, it is important to stay strong and fit. We've tried running, but we both find it boring and since I have no condition whatsoever after each try I'd get dizzy / nauseous and just never wanted to try again. We have also tried to exercise in the living room, together, which is actually quite nice, but we are, ahem, not disciplined enough, so we often forget.

And so yesterday he dragged me I went to the gym with Mark. We trained our legs, arms, chest, back, abs (just a bit, it's my weakest spot, though, I did use to have a mysterious six pack) and in the end we did some aerobic exercises. It was fun kind-of, but also boring kind-of.  I have to recognize afterwards I did feel more relaxed and calm. But I am not sure I can really get into it, in the way you see some people just LOVE doing exercise, the endorphin rush and all of that. How's it for you? Is exercise a pain or is it something you do with gusto?

A fresh summer lunch

On Saturday we had friends over and as I was planning the menu I was thinking long and hard. I wanted people to enjoy and have enough to eat as well. And then, surprise, the new (free) e-book by Marcela arrived in my inbox and I was suddenly inspired (seriously, such beautiful photos).

 

 I made quinoa-tabbouleh, a lentil and tomato salad, courgette and goat cheese quiche, broccoli and brie quiche, Tomato-Mozzarella-Basil little boats, Mexican red (tomato) rice and mole. We also got some Hummus, Tzatziki and Turkish bread. The night before I prepared Sangria. People kept saying how delicious everything was and kept going for seconds and thirds. I was so so happy. If you would like any of the recipes let me know and I'll post them in the comments, though most of these dishes were quite simple. How was your weekend?

Louis Pasteur's house and museum in Paris

Ever since I went to Paris the first time I had been wanting to visit the Pasteur Institute (comparable to the CDC in Atlanta) and the Louis Pasteur museum. And every time I went for some reason or another I didn't make it, people had different priorities, or we were on a tight schedule to visit all the sights. Last October, I was determined to finally visit.

I have always deeply admired Louis Pasteur: his creativity, his ability to think out of the box and develop ways in which the lives of animals and people could be improved. He revolutionized microbiology, was a pioneer in immunology, perfected techniques to produce wine and beer (by discovering the chemical and biological processes behind) and was even able to spot and cure a disease affecting silk worms. At the museum you will be able to visit the apartment where he lived the last 8 years of his life, from l888 to 1895, there are all kinds of objects that let you peek into the way he lived.

Then, there is a whole room dedicated to his scientific discoveries, and many original objects, among which some of hiw very own Swan-flasks, that were crucial in rejecting the theory of spontaneous generation ("The idea that beetles, eels, maggots and now microbes could arise spontaneously' from putrefying matter, speculated on since Greek and Roman times"). Thanks to him, vaccines were developed against anthrax and rabies, ending with the horror and fear these diseases caused.  At the Institut Pasteur, you will also be able to visit his tomb, located in a beautiful marble and mosaic crypt that reminded me of Byzantine art (unfortunately, photos were forbidden). 

The museum (25, rue du Docteur Roux ,75015 Paris) is open from Monday to Friday, visiting hours are at 14h, 15h and 16h. It's easily reachable by metro (station Pasteur, on lines 6 and 12) and after your visit you can enjoy the view from the top floor of the Montparnasse tour, or stroll along the pretty streets (I remember finding a small bakery, eating delicious pastries on a bench and watching school-kids play)

Grateful

Some days are difficult... particularly when you have to wait and you don't want to wait any longer. Living life in what seems to be an eternal pause is hard. Sometimes I end up with tears in my eyes without really knowing why, at the most random moments. When that happens I try to look around and recognize all the good things that surround us. Oh, and I finally convinced the boy to get us a milk jug and sugar bowl. (Michelle agrees with me that you can never have too many, yet we didn't have any). Surprises in the mailbox always cheer me up, so thanks Jo and Zarawitta. I will be writing some letters soon, I might have gotten supplies, fancy papershops are a real source of happiness. Aside from tea, reading, enjoying the sunshine when it's there, cooking... how do you cope with anxiety?

Feels like summer

It's warm outside. Really warm. It is always so unexpected, when the sun decides to shine, it almost feels like it's a different country. People are happier, suddenly all the cafés burst alive with open terraces and children play outside. And when its warm my brain is tricked into believing it is going to last forever, the bright weather. But we know better, and so everyone does their best to suck it all up, just in case. On Saturday it was not *that* warm, yet people were out in their sandals and shorts. I was talking to an Argentinian friend yesterday about how the weather does change the personality of people, how maybe that's the reason people of northern latitudes seem quieter, more structured. We really are animals... connected and dependant on nature. How was your weekend?