When Breakfast Becomes a Ritual

Breakfast, at least on weekdays, has become a ritual, one with just a few minor variations. I'm in my second year of using a limited number of ingredients in my preparation. 

1. Udi's Simple Granola. No other brand or variety will do, although I'm tempted to try a recipe recently published in the Wednesday 'Food' section of the New York Times. 

2. Fage's (pronounced Fa-yeh! as the container notes) Total all natural Greek strained yogurt.  Again, no variations. I like the brand's density and lack of sweetness. 

3. Fresh fruit. Always a banana. Almost always blueberries, even when they're in the pricey side. Raspberries, frequently. Strawberries, occasionally. My favorite fruit for this concoction is peaches, which limits this variation to a summertime treat. 

The ritual kicks in with the preparation. I slice half a banana into a deep cereal bowl. Then add two other fruits. Blueberries and raspberries. Blueberries and strawberries. Blueberries and peaches. Never raspberries and strawberries, or either of these two fruits mixed with peaches. And never blackberries in any combination, even though they are always on display in the produce section to tempt me. 

Once the fruits are in the bowl, I add a dollop of yogurt and a generous sprinkling of granola. Then I repeat the process, which is silly, to be honest. Before eating, I thoroughly mix the contents of the bowl. 

The ritual continues as I sit down at the kitchen counter -- never anywhere else, not even on the patio when the weather permits -- and slowly work my way to the bottom of the bowl while reading the New York Times. Yes, no exceptions here as well.  (As least not as yet, anyway.)

I used to shift gears during the winter months, preparing a bowl of oatmeal without all of the ritual, as the only added ingredients I tend to use in this case is a sliced banana and a sprinkling of brown sugar. Last fall, though, I found myself very contentedly stuck in granola. 

My previous addiction to granola occurred in the fall of 1972, during my final semester at UB. Back then it wasn't just for breakfast. Whether it was the brand I purchased or my overindulgence, I can't say, but as much as I loved the texture and taste, it had an unwanted effect on my digestive system. It made me both gassy and constipated, a seeming contradiction in outcomes. Before the end of the semester, I decided to, ahem, eliminate granola from my diet. The ban remained in place for many years. 

That's it for the granola chronicles. 

An excerpt from my most recent letter to my brother and sister-in-law.