My internal alarm clock, aka stomach, shakes me rudely awake before dawn. Swallowing my morning medication, I fight the rumbles for another hour of sleep, dreaming about pancakes. Saturday sunrise sneaks through the window and birds sing me awake. My morning ritual involves using an Aeropress to hand press dark coffee into a steel cup, then emulsifying coconut oil and local honey into it with a Cuisinart Smart Stick blender. The fat soothes my hungry belly during our breakfast production. Crushed pecans sear like a crust onto almond flour pancakes. I finish mine with fresh blueberries and a drizzle of pure maple syrup. My mind revisits childhood breakfasts of Dad’s pancakes and Mom’s waffles, while my body skips on by the painful aftermath of ingesting wheat.
After breakfast, I cook a pot of oxtails. I lightly brown the fat on all sides of the meaty bones in fresh garlic and olive oil. Stewing until the connective tissues dissolve into water with onions, carrots, celery, salt takes several hours. All three dogs drool in anticipation of marrow bones to gnaw, but settle for their own bowl of grain free, salmon and sweet potato pet food. Slipping TOMS on my feet and grabbing a walking stick diverts their rapt attention as we head out for a hike. Snacking on fresh avocado and baby cucumbers seasoned with sea salt and lemon tides me over until lunchtime.
Fighting Food Fantasies
by Monica Opincar
My Typical Day of Broth, Bones & Blueberries