Guest Blogger: John D Moore

Friday, September 26
7:46 am

current mood: cukoo-for-cocoa-puffs

No diggity, dayum doubt: breakfast is THE most important meal of the day… The following testimony seeks to attest that there is truth to this rumor. I shall present as fact that there is no better way to start yr day than with tooth decay… Please allow me to help spread the butter on this tasty lil’ toaster strudel and wax poetic on the new hope that every tomorrow morning brings… and the satisfaction my heart sings… everytime I eat a bowl of lip-smacking sugary goodness…

Controversy aside (cos who’s got time fer all that, really?!), America’s airwaves have seen a barrage of ‘breakfast personalities’… for ages countless characters have been assaulting our consciousness, demanding our attention to savor their flavor and choose them from the ‘Aisle of Misfit Groceries’… This ‘Army of Breakfast Advertising Identities’ is well known to most… You know ‘em: Tony the Tiger, Cap’N Crunch, Frankenberry, Count Chockula… and representing the ladies team: Aunt Jemima, Mrs. Butterworth, the Vermont Maid— great warriors of the kitchen table: fiercely independent, noble & proud…

Auntie Jemz was well aware of food’s formative powers to satisfy and warm yr soul. Her knowing smile seemed to promote good health by starting your day right— at the breakfast table. That 1st, all-important meal of the day has proved to aid concentration levels in the classroom and help to regulate insulin levels, combating those late morning hunger pangs bubbling up yr tummy. The lady was no fool. Truth, Ruth…

From the dawn of TV, these early-morning marketers reaped constant mayhem on our airwaves each Saturday morning during commercial breaks and furiously competed for yr loyalties and cavities.

Fluoride made mornings fun again, though.

High fructose corn-syrups, sweet-golden sugar-spun-yum-time-fun [<— cereal haiku… yeah, I penned it!]. Dishes filled to the brim as you start yr day with a rush… in a rush… and out the door.

The folks were troubled early on… Mostly due to the non-standard serving sizes I’d pile into my ‘Jethro Bodine’-esque cereal bowl… A real term my mother used to describe my bold display of gluttony… Naturally, I wore it like a badge of courage— Jethro was possibly the MOST ignorant of the Clampetts but had a nice head of hair. I could deal with that. Besides, who eats 1 1/2 cups of cereal anyway?! Serving sizes rarely are reflective of the way real people eat… real hungry people, anyway. Balanced breakfast my azz! Where’s that Tupperware bowl?

Just the mention of pancakes actually makes me feel all warm inside… but maybe that’s just the gluten tearing up my lower intestines.

The ‘celiacs’ [as I have dubbed it] has made it a challenge to eat & enjoy most foods that others have come to accept as commonly stocked pantry items. But gluten-free does not mean ‘fun-free’, I have come to learn [thanks, Alissa!].

Nothing says ‘breakfast treat’ to me more than baked goods, though. Muffins… YUMMM! Blueberry muffins, esp… I can hear them mock me as I pass by the bakery— or maybe that’s just the stockperson in the frozen food section cursing me for ‘upsetting the cosmic flow’ of his sherbert display… the smell still memorable to me from my youth, passing through what was once Jordan Marsh [now the home of Macy’s] with my aunt on a Saturday in Downtown Crossing… Boston’s retail epicenter and central meeting place for our city’s chemically imbalanced, wayward streetfolk and generally unkempt (i.e. probably don’t own a comb).

Au Bon Pain was one of my earliest jobs as a teenager… ‘the place of good bread’ as it was dubbed— yes, that was me in the beret. My formal introduction to the croissant and the workplace, alike. My most memorable experiences involved eating raw chocolate-chip cookie dough in the freezer before they were proofed.

My conflicts with food and questionable headwear started early.