Pixies, scones and scrambled eggs

I believe in cravings. That is, I believe in giving in to them. There are those few times a year where more than anything else, I want red meat. Or chocolate. Or whisky. Often those cravings are a little dark, a little dirty. There’s something compelling me to that flavor, to that feeling. There’s little satisfying as a craving met and satiated. The first bite scratches the itch. The second scratches a little more. And by the third, you’re can really start to appreciate what you’ve been lusting for.

And on the flip side, there’s little so disappointing as not meeting that craving. Of allowing yourself the indulgence and the bite in question misses the mark. When you get really close, but still miss the mark. The dish becomes a waste of time, a nuisance. With every bite whispering, “I am not what you’re after.”

This morning I was in spinning class. Mondays are the hardest. The class is long, it’s early, and I have to convince myself to stay to the end from minute to minute. There are a few things that get me through. Sheer will, the music or, like today, promise of breakfast. I made meyer lemon-current scones last night. I picked up fresh eggs over the weekend. All I saw in my head was perfectly scrambled eggs with a toasty scone. And coffee. On the walk back from class, all I could think about was scones and eggs. And coffee. And the pixies. I turned the corner to my street with these visions of breakfast and strains of frank black in my head and it was all I could do to contain myself and not run down the block to get started.

But I contained myself. And in a quick ten minutes I sat down to a toasty scone, perfectly cooked scrambled eggs finished with a splash of cream, a steaming mug of San Jose El Yalu (coe #3, for those keeping score) with Trompe Le Monde playing probably a little too loud for 7:15 in the morning.

I didn’t care.

It was good. It was right. It was exactly everything I wanted. Everything I had in my head for those last 6 minutes of class when I was about to throw in the towel. Everything I was craving so intensely realized all at once. Damn good for a Monday.