Breakfast lately has been full of creativity. The family has been semi-reclusive like all other families under the eagle-eye of the ECQ (enhanced community quarantine). It’s fortunate the house is full of playfulness, sense of humor and geniuses.
My precocious nephew Pannon suddenly piped: “Genius, Uncle O? Romans believed every child had a guardian spirit called a genius. These spirits had the power to gift the child with intelligence and success.”
“Gee, that’s news,” said Peetong, cousin Dona’s husband.
Dry humor paved the way to our starchy breakfast: Boiled ripe bananas, potato cakes, ripe mangoes, and steamed purple and orange sweet potatoes.
“Hey, genius Pannon, may I have some of your mashed sweet potato mixed with butter, and black pepper?” I asked. It wasn’t bad at all.
“Genius Obz, may I try your cubed bananas latticed with condensed milk, and dotted with nuts?” so asked Aunt Tita Blitte.
“With all my heart, genius favorite aunt of mine,” I replied.
Peetong, planting his strong arm around Dona, said, “Genius love of my life, share thine cup of cubed mangoes dressed with Yakult, and we will all pleasures prove.”
Dona winked. “Come eat with me, and be my love, then, Sire Robert Browning.”
Niece Krystalle was about to dig into her latest recipe (potato pancake) when Uncle Gustave, sotto voce, interrupted.
“Fashionista grand niece of mine, may I be the first to judge your newest treat?”
It’s been said it takes at least half a century to produce an impeccable Brunello in a bottle. Luckily, potato pancakes take only a few minutes of grating spuds, mixing it with an egg, flour to bind, grated garlic, 1/4 cup minced mushrooms or carrot, salt and pepper to taste, and frying them into patties.
It’s a stroke of genius.