On the morning of the first day of a new year I always have to stop for a moment and consider what I will eat first. It is a significant meal, one that deserves something more refined than nachos, doritos, french fries, or other foods that are often consumed post midnight in a alcohol induced haze. I believe the first meal of the year should be special and good, ideally a food you love but don't get to indulge in very often.
Despite my many profound thoughts about my "first breakfast" I had no plans for the premiere meal of 2009. We woke up early, and after a long morning walk on a grey beach we were cold and hungry. But the idea of toast and eggs seemed sort of drab and we were nearly out of granola. The first new day of the new year seemed the perfect time to test something new and fun: my ebelskiver pan, a yet-to-be-used November birthday gift.
Ebelskivers are sweet Danish dumplings. They are also labor intensive sweet Danish dumplings. The pan has divots for seven, the recipe made forty. Instead I made three batches of seven, quickly shuffling the finished dumplings to the table, stuffing a hot ebelskiver in my mouth and commanding M. to eat before rushing back to the kitchen to make more.
I filled the first batch with apricot jam, the second with cream cheese, and the third with sweet cherry jam. We made one filled with honey, honey that became molten in the pan and sticky sweet and good in the mouth. We will make these again.
We don't know if eating ebelskivers brings good luck just like lentils do in Italy and black eyed peas do in the South. But we are ever hopeful with lots of good luck in the new year.
Despite my many profound thoughts about my "first breakfast" I had no plans for the premiere meal of 2009. We woke up early, and after a long morning walk on a grey beach we were cold and hungry. But the idea of toast and eggs seemed sort of drab and we were nearly out of granola. The first new day of the new year seemed the perfect time to test something new and fun: my ebelskiver pan, a yet-to-be-used November birthday gift.
Ebelskivers are sweet Danish dumplings. They are also labor intensive sweet Danish dumplings. The pan has divots for seven, the recipe made forty. Instead I made three batches of seven, quickly shuffling the finished dumplings to the table, stuffing a hot ebelskiver in my mouth and commanding M. to eat before rushing back to the kitchen to make more.
I filled the first batch with apricot jam, the second with cream cheese, and the third with sweet cherry jam. We made one filled with honey, honey that became molten in the pan and sticky sweet and good in the mouth. We will make these again.
We don't know if eating ebelskivers brings good luck just like lentils do in Italy and black eyed peas do in the South. But we are ever hopeful with lots of good luck in the new year.
No comments:
Post a Comment