I woke up this morning with the Velvet Underground's 'Sunday Morning' repeating in my mind, Lou Reed's heavy voice dancing around in my brain like an old record stuck repeating the same few lines over and over. Then, I realized why. Yes, it is indeed Sunday morning, but that wasn't entirely the reason. The waves of hot steam rolling off the large cup of strong black assam sitting on my nightstand and something delicious, mixed with plenty of garlic, frying away on the stovetop had awoken me from my deep, late slumber. This is how Sunday mornings should always smell & sound. But rare is the Sunday my darling fiance isn't working, and thus able to spoil me in such a fashion. Not only did I come home last night to an incredibly clean house; floors mopped, sheets washed, counters and sinks disinfected, my piles of magazines organized into one attractive stack, bedroom free of clutter - but there I was, waking up in my clean house, the smell of a delicious breakfast slowly occupying the air. It simply doesn't get any better than that. No wonder I'm marrying this man.
Sunday Morning is still playing in brain, my belly full of this delicious skillet. Parboiled sweet and gold potatoes fried in a few tablespoons of olive oil infused with too many garlic bulbs to count, finished with slivers of sweet red pepper, torn pieces of earthy kale and a healthy sprinkle of sea salt. Top each serving with a perfectly poached egg, serve with a giant cup of strong black tea, and you've got a Sunday Morning breakfast that simply cannot be beat.
Our Sunday afternoon calls for boots and a long leisurely stroll with our two pug-a-lugs around Lake Padden. I hope you are enjoying your Sunday just as much as I am!