breakfast

The Breakfast Scramble with Rosie Pope

Here in New York we have one more week until our kids go back to school. It’s that time of year when I feel like I want to get organized. I want to be efficient and and make plans that will help the school year get started smoothly. And, of course for me that means thinking about food!

One of the biggest challenges I face is breakfast. Cold cereal is just so darn easy, and Rosa has a couple of favorite brands that are at least semi-healthy. But, I know we could be doing better on the nutrition front.

I’ve learned from my work as food editor at Parents that I’m not alone with my breakfast quandaries.

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Breakfast Bruschetta

As I often do, the other night I was thinking about what I should have for breakfast the next morning. I surveyed our provisions. We had some slightly bruised but still fragrant peaches and a half-loaf of rustic bread. Bingo. A breakfast bruschetta began to take shape in my mind. Toasted bread, diced and macerated peaches with a touch of sugar and basil… perfect.

Well, almost perfect. I knew I needed a “glue”, a base for the bruschetta, something to marry to the bread and the fruit. Fresh ricotta seemed like just the thing. If I had been really ambitious I would have made my own from this terrific recipe. Instead, the next morning I picked some up and put together this summery treat.

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True Breakfast Confession

It’s embarrassing, but true: on the weekends I like dessert for breakfast. Sure, an omelette or bacon and eggs can be satisfying. But really I want blueberry pancakes with real, rich maple syrup or baked brioche French toast with raisins and pecans (really a bread pudding!). Even better would be a piece of fruit pie from dessert the night before. When I lived in France in college my French “mother” and I would eat leftover tarte tatin for breakfast. The caramel drenched apples and buttery puff pastry, now a little damp from a night on the countertop, were a luxurious and pleasurable way to start the day. Now that was a reason to get out of bed (and a reason I don’t let anyone see photos of me from that time).

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