Smoothie stiffie

I like to be inventive with the odds and ends in my fridge - sometimes it's not even very difficult to work out what to do with some leftover blueberries and some rather elderly yoghurt. Smoothies for breakfast - what could go wrong?
So I whisked them up with my magic soup gun and laid the breakfast table while the Man was still in the shower. Since that can be up to 40 minutes before he is ready to breakfast, I went off to do various other household tasks.
When we sat down to eat our muesli and drink our smoothies, the drinks had completely solidified. Not just got a skin on, as I initially thought, but turned into rather nasty crumbly blueberry cheese.
Why would that happen?
So we had to start the day without any superfoods at all.

Breakfast on Christmas morning

Now, I hate to come over all Bah Humbug, but one of the downsides of Christmas is that there's all this traditional food and I don't like any of it.
Turkey? Yuck. Dry and nasty-flavoured.
Brussels sprouts? Euch. Bitter and watery.
And mince pies, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake etc all have dried fruit in, making them a no-no from my point of view. Admittedly a picky point of view, but valid, I think.
And the cake often has marzipan on it.
So I lose weight and family good will over Christmas.
This year was different.
This year we all went (completely mad, but wonderful) to Sri Lanka for Christmas and had fresh fruit and spicy dal for breakfast and curry at every other meal. Oh it was bliss!
And the warmth, the sunshine, the baby elephants, the blue ocean and golden beach, they were good too!

The most important meal of the day?

I have always had a difficult relationship with breakfast, although now that I no longer have to go to school or a job I hate, it has become easier.
Nevertheless, it is hard to settle on a working-day breakfast that makes me happy (weekend breakfasts are another thing altogether and a joy to consider).
At the moment the steady compromise is muesli with milk and a mug of black coffee.
The milk is a recent innovation after years of yoghurt, which is healthier but just a little harder to organise, since my breakfast companion insists on milk.
He also likes his muesli very sweet. This is a difficulty because for years I have been in the habit of buying unsugared muesli and then adding extra oats and nuts to dilute the sweetness of the dried fruit.
So our compromise is that we buy muesli with lots of fruit, he adds tons of sugar and I add a handful of oats.
And every morning I am reminded of my grandmother, who eats muesli for breakfast because she knows it is good for her, but makes no attempt to pretend she likes it. "Disgusting stuff," she grumbles. When I am 97, I too shall give up all attempts to convince myself that I am enjoying my muesli.

Pancakes for breakfast

One of the joys of living in Dalston, a not particularly salubrious but lively neighbourhood in Hackney, east London, is breakfast in the many Turkish and Kurdish cafés around.
My current favourite is Café Evin (which I think means 'home' in Turkish). The chief attraction of this particular venue is that there are two lovely women called Fatma sitting in the window all morning making goezleme or Turkish pancakes.
Fatma-1 rolls balls of savoury dough into huge circles and covers half of each disc with a filling. You can choose between cheese, spinach or potato. If, like me, you aren't good with choices before you've had your morning coffee, you can have multiple fillings.
The cheese, spinach and potatoes are all mixed with a variety of spices and vegetables - largely spring onions, I think, but am not sure.
Then she hands the delicious semi-circle to Fatma-2, who is in charge of the hob, a domed metal thing heated from underneath with gas.
It comes to the hungry breakfaster as a great dry floury thing, thinner than a pizza crust and wavering between soft and crispy. A much more satisfying breakfast than the full fry, and it won't leave you feeling full of grease.