At 11am, the eggs are in the pan. I turn off the hip hop -- playing at full volume -- and put on the Big Chill soundtrack.
Wait. Let me back up.
I was out of bed at 7:45am, stumbling to the kitchen to pour muffin batter into tins before I turned the lights on or brushed my teeth.
The next three hours and fifteen minutes were busy. The kitchen -- walls covered in notes and to do lists just like a war room -- turned into the nerve center of all activity. I baked oatmeal muffins, topping them with a little cinnamon sugar. I showered, made a coffee run (for myself and for a cardboard carrier of hot coffee), and arranged flowers. Apron tied on tight, I piled apple slices and grapes on a platter, side by side with homemade granola and containers of yogurt. I pulled out Maida Heatter's spectacular recipe for blueberry crumble and I layered blueberries, brown sugar, butter, and oats in a glass dish. I lay strips of bacon and breakfast sausage in my grill plan and poured eggs in the skillet.
At 11:15, the first guest arrived. And for the next four hours, we ate. And chatted. And drank coffee. And ate.
Sorry, there are no photos. We ate it all.
Scrambled eggs, bacon, and Formaggio Kitchen breakfast sausage
Oatmeal Raisin Muffins
Cranberry-Almond Granola [recipe coming soon!] and yogurt
Maida Heatter's Blueberry Crumble
Fruit platter, coffee, orange juice
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