The Breakfast Project

I have gathered basic information about common breakfasts in sixty-two countries.  I am now beginning the process of checking whether the information I’ve gathered is legitimate (most of it came from the internet, though some from my own experience).  I have found and adapted a few recipes and have taken just a few photos of some of the “international” breakfasts I’ve made.

The size and scope of the project is beginning to dawn on me.  While I’ve always known I would select only a few “common” breakfasts from each country, narrowing the number to a manageable size is proving quite difficult in some cases.  I could write an entire book about breakfast in India, for example, where I could just barely scratch the surface with roti, sambar, dosa, parathas, thepla, khaman dhokla, uttapam, puran poli, khichdi, taftoon, and nihari.  In others, it’s not so hard; in Uzbekistan, for example, breakfast apparently is a rarity that, when eaten, generally is limited to a bread called non topped with butter, honey, or yogurt.

As I conduct research into and experiment with breakfasts common in other countries, I find that there is a lot of room for originality, just as there is here (if we allow ourselves to depart from tradition and habit).  That pliability, though, adds to the difficulty of making selections. How does one define “authentic” foods versus adaptations and, even if it is possible, is it relevant? Even as I find information about a common breakfast in any given country, tastes and available ingredients and cooking styles and a host of other factors are changing. A breakfast once cooked over hot embers is now cooked on a grill or a gas stove; is the more modern version any less authentic than the older one?  And how far back does one have to go to find even more “authentic” versions of the morning meal? The simple fact that the world of food is changing so rapidly made my decision to focus on “common” the best one for me.

The breakfasts I always have found most intriguing are the ones far afield from those common in the U.S., except (I guess) among immigrant enclaves.  I’ve never seen congee, for example (one of my favorites), on a breakfast menu here; I’ve had to make it myself, which I do happily.  And breakfasts that include fish or pickled vegetables or fiery stews or slices of cheese and cold-cuts appeal to me.

Yesterday, I began sending email messages to contacts I’ve made with people in other countries over the years, asking them to review some of the common breakfasts on my lists from their countries and offer suggestions, corrections, and even recipes and photographs if they have them and are willing to share.  But my list of contacts does not come close to encompassing all sixty-two countries on the list thus far, much less the remaining one-hundred-ninety-five countries on my list.  Hah!  I have no illusions that I will gather information about all those countries.  I will be satisfied when I have gathered information that represents the majority of styles and types of foods.  At this point in the process, I do not know how I will know that I have achieved that milestone. That’s part of the reason the project is so interesting; it has no logical end, but it has a logical stopping point that will be defined “on the fly.”

Once I conquer the beast and have satisfied myself that the book is complete, I don’t know whether I’ll try to get it published using the traditional route or not.  I’m leaning away from it, inasmuch as the competition for interest and investment is cut-throat.  So, I may have to publish it independently, knowing I’ll never recover the time and energy I spent doing it.  Such is life.  I’m enjoying it. But other commitments and interests keep intervening; it’s a lot like life in that way.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
This entry was posted in Books, Food. Bookmark the permalink.

I wish you would tell me what you think about this post...

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.