Biscuits and The Heathen Hours...

Cold and foggy makes for a beautiful morning

It's Sunday and I must confess.  I often spend my Sunday mornings at Jungle Jim's International Market in Fairfield, Ohio.  It's quiet then. My husband calls this time on Sunday mornings The Heathen Hour.  No crowds -- especially this time of year.  Most people are in church or in bed. It's fun because all the produce managers and fish mongers and department managers are there.  If you need something special, they are there to chat and figure it out for you. 

It's the Simple Things...

Sometimes I just want to curl up and hole up, escape.  But a few days at the beach is out of the question.Too much going on.  Too little time.  Too many commitments.  Too long a list.  Too full a plate.  Just much too much.

So, when things get a little overwhelming, I just shut down for a morning hour or two and take it easy - at least mentally -- with a tiny little breakfast in bed.  It's probably a colossal waste of time for some, but it works for me.  I regroup, recharge, ready to face the world again. Breakfast in bed (really more of a little nosh)  is a great way to slow down just a bit, to chill out -- a little luxury of time that I squirrel away for myself.

Popovers!

I never made a popover until I was well into my third or fourth year of college. I don't recall my mother, a wonderful and adventurous cook, making them.  My mother made Yorkshire Pudding with Roast Beef.  She loved it. But never a popover to be seen.  Perhaps it didn't enter her culinary psyche - Yorkshire Pudding.  Popovers.  Yorkshire Pudding.  Popovers...  the connection was never made. No grandmothers or maiden aunts pulled a pan of these from the oven on a cold winter morning -- or any other morning I can recall. They pulled many other wonderful baked delights from the oven on a cold morning, but not popovers... at least not in my experience.