The Things I Missed Most

The list of things I missed while living abroad was incredibly odd and random, at best.  I didn’t have the slightest inkling I would miss most things, until the time actually came, and I was often surprised that I focused upon and obsessed about certain foods.

While backpacking through New Zealand, I couldn’t help but fixate on cereal with cold milk.  It was a completely unexpected craving, but I couldn’t help myself.  After a month of suffering through stale bagels and peanut butter, I dreamt of the crunch of the cereal juxtaposed against the coolness of the milk.  Sure, cereal and milk existed in the land of Kiwis, but we didn’t have the luxury of a refrigerator or cooler, so traveling with milk was out of the question.  Once we were settled in Australia and had a refrigerator at our disposal, my obsession shifted to specific types of cereal (namely plain Cheerios) and other convenience foods (i.e. Goldfish crackers and string cheese).  It was weird; things I never thought twice about while living in the States suddenly became of the utmost importance to me. 

But the thing I absolutely missed most was Sunday breakfast.  Again, we could have easily gone out for breakfast at any number of restaurants in our neighborhood, but it just wasn’t the same.  A typical Aussie breakfast is nothing like a typical American breakfast, and is usually twice as expensive.  Omelets, even eggs, were rare.  Hash browns always came in the patty variety.  And they seemed to be obsessed with roasted tomatoes, mushrooms, and avocado as sides.  I like all three, but after a while, I just wanted a “normal” breakfast.  Most of all, I yearned for a good cup of coffee.  I began to dream of a nice, steaming, and bottomless cup of regular coffee.  I didn’t want a cappuccino, latte, or Americano; I just wanted a cup of brewed, black coffee.  So, after nearly an entire year of deprivation, that was the first thing I did upon returning home.  I went directly from the airport to my favorite breakfast joint in Newport Beach, ordered a breakfast of scrambled eggs, and savored my hot cup of coffee.  I even had the server fill it up a few more times than truly necessary, simply because I could.  I may have been tweaking from the caffeine overload, but I was in heaven. 

Even after a few weeks, the luxury of a good breakfast and hot coffee is still not lost on me.  In fact, I think I’ve come to appreciate these things even more because I know what it’s like to go without.  Now, I absolutely relish our Sunday morning breakfasts.  They are a tradition I look forward to all week.  I know it’s silly, but I can’t help myself.  I’m a sucker for a good breakfast.