After a night of cold rain, the first rain in months, I decided I wanted a warm breakfast. The other day I bought some skinny asparagus, so I diced up a bunch of that along with some red bell peppers and onions. I put a tiny dollop of onion oil in a pan and started lightly sautéing the veggies. While the heat from the stove tenderized the freshly chopped delights of nature, I broke open some organic eggs and swirled them about with some spices and a smidgeon of raw cheese, which would soon no longer be raw.
As I gently poured the egg mixture over the sizzling array red, green and white edibles a memory from my childhood flashed through my mind. I spent the first ten years of existence living in Redondo Beach. My maternal Granddaddy would often come over on Saturday or Sunday morning and we’d go out to breakfast, the lot of us: me, my brother and my mom and dad. Sometimes my Granddaddy would bring his girlfriend Rosie.
I clearly remember going to a restaurant near the water. I don’t remember though if the restaurant in my mind existed on or near the Redondo Beach Pier or near the water in Marina Del Rey. For a few years my Granddaddy lived in one of the nicer apartment buildings on the water in Marina Del Rey and belonged to some exclusive club.
When we’d arrive at the restaurant parking lot, we’d have to walk by the docks, lined with boats. The inside décor of the restaurant remains a blur, but I can hear my Granddaddy and my daddy placing their orders like it was yesterday. They both loved the restaurant’s feature item: the “garbage” omelet, which consisted of whatever veggies and meats the chef felt like throwing in the mix. You’d never know what you’d find in your omelet—a veritable potpourri of delectable edibles.
My Daddy and Granddaddy would love to get their garbage omelets and debate the quality of that morning’s offerings. I think they always ordered that omelet. Somehow as I cooked my omelet this morning, even though I knew its contents, I felt reminded of those childhood mornings by the water, eating mystery foods.
As I sat down to eat, I relished in the memory and simply felt their presence with me. Simple pleasures. Simple moments. Love.