Pause for a Platonic brunch

The Platonic ideal of breakfast

The Platonic ideal of breakfast

Won’t you excuse me for a moment? I must tuck into my brunch, for after that twelve and a half mile hike I’m ever so famished. I… what? No, no, I did not have a team of chefs help me. I made it myself, in my own little kitchen. See, here’s the cast iron skillet I… hmmm? Well, yes, all modesty aside, I suppose it is the Platonic ideal of breakfast, an eternal form of which all other breakfasts are imperfect reflections.

Mmmmm, delicious. The bacon has been seared to just the right crispiness, the bagel lightly browned and judiciously buttered, the cheese and the egg melted and fluffed respectively to the perfect… what’s that? Will I make you one?

I’m so sorry, I’d love to, but right now I have to go piss some more excellence. Until next time!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: