Sometimes, one will have a simple bowl of fruit for breakfast.
But not at my Grandmother's house. Fruit is fine, but her gravy is fantastic! She's made me biscuits and gravy when I've visited for as long as I can remember.
I'm not really giving the recipe here (because it's one of those recipes that goes more by instinct than measurement), but it's essentially bacon drippings, flour, milk, salt and pepper. Just the best breakfast/dinner ever, made even tastier by all the memories of eating it growing up.
Also a tradition in our family: hot coffee, and lots of it. All morning long. My family likes to savor the coffee-drinking, paper-reading, life-pondering moments of the morning and rush the boring stuff like getting ready into as small a time as possible. I'm pretty sure one of my earliest memories is the sound of these exact coffee cups clinking against the saucer.
Thanks for your joy and hospitality, Grandmother. And for that delectable gravy!
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