Anyone will tell you that I’m not a big breakfast person. I also secretly hate brunch, which is tantamount to sacrilege in Portland, which seems to be the biggest brunch-oriented city I’ve ever been to. I just don’t understand what the fuss is all about. Eggs, cheese, scrambles, whatever.
So the other morning I made “brunch” for some friends which consists of what you see above: Stumptown coffee with soy milk, hunks of French bread and warm salted butter, potatoes roasted in bacon fat with chives and smoked paprika and cayenne, and a huge farmer’s market spinach salad with roasted golden beets cut into tiny cubes, crispy bacon (the meat addition is in honor of my best friend Katie), red onion, melted goat cheese and green lentils stewed in white wine. Not breakfast, but better. I think so anyway.