San Francisco is a brunch town through and through. And I'm always down for a nice eggs benedict or a stack of blueberry pancakes. But everyday can't be Sunday. Most of us have day jobs and can't lounge around cafes late into the afternoon hours. So here are a few of my favorite spots for quick, creative, inspiring breakfasts around the city. One is a bit gluttonous, the other earnestly healthy, and the last sloppy but satisfying. So while dining trends will always come and go, breakfast is staying put. Sometimes mom knew what she was talking about: it is the most important meal of the day.

The Good: Fraîche
I first stumbled across Fraîche while wandering around downtown Palo Alto. This was around the same time when frozen yogurt shops were opening on (seemingly) every street corner in San Francisco, and I’ll admit, I was one of the people in those long lines. But if you're like me, you're a little burned out on the tart treat and the neon décor. Fraîche is different. Trust me. The frozen yogurt has more of a creamy, subtly tart flavor than other competitors, they use organic Clover milk, and owner Patama Gur spent a long time perfecting her special blend of probiotic cultures--and it shows.

In addition to frozen yogurt, Fraîche also does a thick, housemade unfrozen 2% yogurt. When I first visited the shop on Fillmore recently, I ordered the frozen yogurt with pureed apricots and my friend opted for the unfrozen version with raspberries and peaches. I have to say, I had entrée envy. While mine was delicious, the unfrozen yogurt is unlike anything I've ever had. Think Greek yogurt on steroids. As we were leaving, I noticed the breakfast menu and their early morning hours, and vowed to come back for a quick and healthy breakfast before work.

You can get breakfast to eat-in or take-out. The menu is simple and centered around the unfrozen yogurt, fresh fruits, housemade granola, and steel-cut oats. I tried the Toasted Nut and Berry Sundae: yogurt with fresh berries, housemade granola, toasted almonds, and local wildflower honey ($5.50). The nice guy constructing my lovely "sundae" mentioned that the SF Chronicle Special has been the most popular, with steel-cut oatmeal and a choice of fresh yogurt and fruit and nut toppings ($5.95). And these aren't your average toppings. From bright pureed fruits and local honeys to shaved Callebaut chocolate to-order, the toppings are as conscious as the yogurt itself.

So after finishing the Nike Marathon recently and being told by many friends that I’d have to try and taper my ravenous appetite to account for the decrease in physical activity, I've tried to opt for breakfasts that don't include numerous pieces of toast or stacks of pancakes. And for that, Fraîche is here for me. With a cup of Blue Bottle coffee (they start serving the premium coffee next week) and a seat at one of the sleek wooden tables, experience morning the way it should be experienced: simple and thoughtful.

Fraîche
1910 Fillmore Street
San Francisco, CA 94115
(415) 674-6876
Hours: Mon.-Thurs. 7am-11 pm; Fri. 7am-12am;
Sat. 8:30am-12am; Sun. 8:30am-11pm

The "Bad": Dynamo Donuts
Nestled amongst the Mexican grocery stores and panaderia's on 24th St., sits Sara Spearin’s sweet little donut shop. It’s "bad" in the best possible way. There are a few critics who scoff at charging $3 for one donut. But the truth is, I'd pay $3 over and over for what Spearin and crew are doing in the Dynamo kitchen. It’s something that San Francisco has yet to see--an artisan, organic, awesome donut.

Before getting to the donuts, a quick aside: I was a vegetarian for almost fifteen years. About a year ago now, I started eating meat again. Once I decided to go for the gusto, something strange happened: I couldn't get enough bacon. And this was certainly fine timing, as bacon has become rather trendy in the last year or so. From bacon potato chips to bacon chocolate confections, it seems like the much-loved pork product is everywhere these days. So while I understand many folks are over the bacon-in-everything trend, I'm still on a bacon high.

I had my first bacon maple donut at Voodoo Doughnut in Portland, Or. I thought they were pretty good: the donut was light and airy (albeit quite large), the maple glaze rocked, and they put strips of real bacon on top. The bacon itself was a little weird and greasy, but I figured all bacon donuts were that way. Then, a few weeks ago, I went to Dynamo for the first time. Now I know: all bacon maple donuts are not created equal.

While it looks like a simple donut window from the street, there is an entrance leading to a huge open kitchen and a quaint seating area where couples sit with steaming cups of Four Barrel coffee and a donut or two. The buzz from the open kitchen is infectious: five women with cute vintage aprons are busily pumping out donuts while laughing and telling stories. They seem genuinely psyched to be there--and it shows in the product. The donuts themselves are special. For the most part, they’re cakey and have a bit of heft (think old-fashioned donuts of your childhood). I tried the chocolate saffron, which has a very light hint of citrus and a subtle warmth from the saffron. Next I moved on to the caramel del sel, flavored with nutmeg and topped with a caramel glaze and fleur de sel. Then I picked up a few of the apple bacon maple donuts to bring in to work. Unlike the one at Voodoo, the bacon was in small bits sprinkled on top of the donut and wasn’t at all greasy. And the little bits of apple are actually sautéed in bacon fat, resulting in a fabulous salty and sweet flavor. It really is the perfect donut. So with a motto of "EVERYDAY is bacon donut day!" there's not a place I'd rather frequent more at the moment. And even if you’re not a recovering vegetarian with a constant hankering for salty meats, there are many other well-crafted donuts to choose from.

Dynamo Donut
Twitter: @dynamodonut
2760 24th Street
San Francisco, CA 94110
(415) 920-1978
Hours: Tues.-Sat. 7am-5pm; Sun. 9am-4pm; closed Mon.

The Ugly: Hazel's Kitchen
Hazel's Kitchen is very Potrero Hill. For those of you familiar with the neighborhood, I know you feel me. For those who have no idea what I'm talking about, they do a lot of things right, but one of them isn’t necessarily speedy or efficient customer service. It's laid back, it’s independent, and they scoff a little if you try to pay with a credit card. Much like Farley's Coffee next door, I often get blank stares or confused looks when I ask a simple question.

But Hazel's is much loved as a little neighborhood lunch counter with great sandwiches and soups. And that they are. While they’re generally booming at lunch, not as many folks know that they do a really great breakfast burrito. Now I know some of you may be ready to stop reading right about now. I know--I get it. I have a strained relationship with the breakfast burrito as well. Sometimes they're not hot all the way through; sometimes they're soggy. There's nothing like cold, watery eggs to get you going in the morning. But Hazel's burritos are none of those things.

What Hazel's burritos are--the thing that places them in the ugly category--is deliciously messy. It's not a good choice for eating while walking to work or chowing down in the car. You must sit down with a stack of napkins (and a fork would be preferable) to enjoy a Hazels' breakfast burrito. Messiness aside, the nice thing about Hazel’s is the simplicity. The breakfast burrito has eggs, cheese, avocado, salsa and a choice of chorizo, ham, bacon or tofu ($6.95). The ratio of ingredients is perfect: not too much cheese or salsa--where many breakfast burritos fail. And I'm not sure how they get the burrito so delightfully hot without losing the integrity of the avocado, but after seventeen years in business, they obviously know what they’re doing.

Can you find a cheaper breakfast burrito over in the Mission? Sure. Can you find a more authentic, Mexican breakfast burrito? Absolutely. But I can't guarantee that it won’t be soggy, hot all the way through, or busting with fresh ingredients. You just can't help but fall a little bit in love with Hazel's pastel, vintage kitsch and the messy morning madness of the breakfast burrito. Dig in.

Hazel's Kitchen
1319 18th Street
San Francisco, CA 94107
(415) 647-7941
Hours: Mon.-Sat. 8 am-4 pm; Sun. 8:30 am-4 pm

Featured Recipe: Fraîche's Spiced Yogurt Muffin
Owner Patama Gur says they bake these muffins each morning as they really typify what Fraîche does: provide customers healthy, delicious that don't sacrifice on taste. These muffins were developed for Fraîche by Batter Bakery, and use Fraîche's low-fat unfrozen yogurt and applesauce instead of a lot of butter and oils to create an amazing treat that is less than 100 calories.

Ingredients:
2 cups flour
1 cup brown sugar
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. allspice
1 tsp. nutmeg
1 tsp. cloves
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1 ½ cups. yogurt, room temperature
4 Tbsp. melted butter
1/4 cups unsweetened applesauce
1 tsp. vanilla
(For the topping: 2 Tbsp. sugar + ¼ tsp. nutmeg)

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Line 8 large or 14 to 16 standard muffin pans with paper muffin cups.
3. Whisk together dry ingredients in a large bowl until well combined.
4. In another small bowl, whisk eggs, yogurt, butter, applesauce, and vanilla. Add to flour mixture and mix together until just combined.
5. Scoop evenly into muffin cups and sprinkle with sugar nutmeg mixture.
6. Bake 18-20 minutes or until tester comes out clean.
Serve warm.

Makes: 8 large or 14 standard-sized muffins

There's nothing I love more than weekend brunch. It is the ultimate luxury. Waking up late, taking my time, and leisurely starting my day with some form of eggs and bacon or sausage, and a mug of hot coffee. Back in New York, brunch was sometimes a full-day affair, especially if Bloody Mary's were involved. Here in the Bay Area, people tend to be earlier risers, hitting the farmer's market, going to yoga class, or training for marathons/triathlons/any other –ons I'll likely never take part in.

No matter, I don't need to people watch to enjoy a good brunch. Brunch at home in PJs is just as satisfying...especially since I've cracked the recipe to these Chorizo Sausage Patties from my favorite brunch spot back east.

They take some prep time, but make them on a lazy day and keep a stash in your freezer for weekends to come. These are also a great make-ahead dish for group brunches -- just form the patties a day ahead, cover in plastic wrap, and store in the fridge. On party day, bring them to room temp and fire up the skillet!

Chorizo Sausage Patties

Makes: approximately 18 (3-inch) patties

Ingredients:
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 lb. chorizo (alternatives: Trader Joe's chicken chorizo works really well, or you can also use spicy Italian sausage removed from casings)
1 lb. sweet Italian sausage (removed from casings)
1/2 c. breadcrumbs
2 cloves garlic
2 Tbsp. milk
2 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. brown sugar
1/4 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp curry powder (or garam masala if you have it)
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
1 tsp. finely chopped fresh thyme
1 tsp. finely chopped fresh sage
2 large egg yolks

Preparation:
1. Lightly caramelize onion over moderately low heat, 8 to 10 minutes. Cool 10 minutes.

2. While onions are cooling, stir together breadcrumbs and milk in a large bowl and let stand until crumbs absorb milk. Add onions and remaining ingredients to crumb mixture and stir with a fork until blended well.

3. Preheat oven to 250 degrees F.

4. Form sausage mixture into 3-inch patties (about 1/2 inch thick) with dampened hands and arrange on a wax-paper lined tray.

5. Heat a little vegetable oil in 12-inch heavy skillet over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking. Cook patties in 3 batches, turning once, until browned and just cooked through, 4 to 6 minutes per batch.

6. Drain patties briefly on paper towels as cooked, then transfer to shallow baking pan and keep warm, covered with foil, in oven while cooking remaining batches.

While they are still plentiful, make everything you can with Meyer lemons. One of my favorite citrus fruits--hell, one of my favorite fruits--Meyer lemons are at the top of their game right now, but they won't be around forever.

I've been using Meyers steadily throughout the season, just as I'd use a regular lemon, but it wasn't until recently when we were down in L.A. and (finally) had a meal at Pizzeria Mozza (a la Mario Batali, Nancy Silverton, and Joseph Bastianich), that I because truly inspired. Mozza was heaven with its mouth-watering antipasti and superb Napoli-style pizzas, but that's not what this post is about. It was their Meyer Lemon Gelato Pie with Champagne Vinegar Syrup that got me back on the Meyer train.

Of course, now that I was in full Meyer lemon mode, immediately upon my return, I made a batch of my much-loved Meyer Lemon Ice Cream.

But that was hardly enough. On Sunday mornings, especially when the weather is rainy and cold and grey, I love to make a decadent breakfast, like brown butter waffles, a full English, or, one of my all-time favorites: delicate, soufflé-like ricotta pancakes. The first time I ate them was at the much beloved neighborhood restaurant, Rockridge Café, located on College Avenue in Oakland. I was hooked immediately.

So, with a bowlful of Meyer lemons, I decided to make some extra-lemony fluffy ricotta pancakes. You can make these for breakfast but they're also perfect for dessert. We had a few extra pancakes so one night I decided to reheat them in a frying pan with a little butter and then served them with a scoop of the aforementioned Meyer lemon ice cream. Heaven.

Meyer Lemon Ricotta Pancakes

Makes: About 12 small pancakes

Ingredients:
3 eggs, separated
3 tablespoons sugar
1 pinch kosher salt
Finely grated zest of 1 large Meyer lemon
1 cup homemade ricotta (store-bought works fine)
1/2 cup flour
Jam and/or maple syrup, for serving

Preparation:
1. In a bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, sugar, salt, lemon zest, ricotta, and flour.

2. In another bowl, using an electric mixer on medium-high speed or a whisk, beat the egg whites to medium-stiff peaks. Gently fold the egg whites into the ricotta mixture.

3. Heat 2 non-stick or well-seasoned frying pans over medium heat. Add a bit of butter to the pans, enough to coat the bottom.

4. Dollop heaping tablespoonfuls of the pancake batter into the pans, leaving a bit of space in between each pancake. You should be able to fit 3 or 4 pancakes into each pan, depending upon how large your pan is.

5. Cook for about 1 minute, until the bottom is golden brown. Carefully flip the pancake to brown the other side, and cook until the pancake is cooked throughout, another minute or so.

6. Serve at once on warm plates with jam or maple syrup.

I'd never heard of Monkey Bread until a few weeks ago. The name immediately caught my attention. The image of monkeys picking at a loaf of bread as they would nits off each other's backs came to mind. Charming, I thought. I wanted to know more about it.

Not that there's much to know.

The etymology is vague. The term "Monkey Bread" has several possible origins: some people believe that the bread resembles the shape of a monkey puzzle tree, but I feel that these people are out of their heads, perhaps having fallen from the top of one the trees themselves. Other people believe that the name derives from the act of pulling the pastry apart with the fingers, much like monkeys might do, if they were presented with such a treat. I have ruled out the theory that this was a bread frequently baked and fan-mailed to the likes of Mickey Dolenz or Davy Jones by swooning teen-aged girls in the 1960's because the spelling is all wrong. The timing, however, is only a decade away from being correct.

Also known as Hungarian Coffee Cake, Bubble Loaf, and, my favorite, Pinch Me Cake, the term Monkey Bread didn't start popping up until the 1950's in various women's magazines. The dessert itself-- basic yeast rolls coated in cinnamon and buttery caramel-- is close kin to both the Sticky Buns of the Pennsylvania Dutch and the more savory Parker House Rolls of, oh, I don't know, Parker Posey.

Whatever the origin, it's a wonderful treat that lends itself to lazy weekend mornings. Pinch off a loaf for loved ones to wake up to. Or, if you have no loved ones, bake one for yourself and then neglect to shower, change clothes, or leave your house all day, revelling in your own, sweet, cinnamon smell.

It's a very easy treat to make. If you're paying attention, that is. I had gotten up early to make a simple yeast dough, because I prefer making my own dough to buying pre-packed goods, as most food snobs who rebel against their ready-made childhoods do. I flipped on the oven, set the timer, and then sat down at my computer and started over-sharing on my Facebook page. I knew something was wrong when I smelled something burning after only 18 minutes of baking time.

Readers: I would suggest not cranking your oven up to "Broil" if you want to have any sort of successful baking venture. Not for monkey bread, anyway.

A quick clean up and several salty phrases later, I decided that ready-made biscuits didn't seem like such a bad idea, after all. This is Pinch Me Loaf and I certainly was in a pinch. So I trundled off to the store and bought a couple of packages of Pillsbury Buttermilk Grands.

I am now grateful for my initial stupidity. It caused me to re-examine the dessert and the recipe. Rather than blindly follow a recipe-- cooking temperature not withstanding, I now thought to make the Monkey Bread differently. The way I wanted it to taste. Perhaps, I thought, to compensate for cheating with store-bought dough. I added a pinch of clove to the cinnamon sugar, some orange zest, and a fine sprinkling of Amaretto. It made me rather happy. I hope it does the same for you.

Monkey Bread verions 2.0

Home made yeast dough makes for a wonderful, from-scratch dessert but, since this is really a treat for lazy weekend mornings, I am going to place the emphasis on the word lazy and go for the store-bought variety. Scream and howl all you want, but this monkey hears no evil. Besides, slamming those biscuit packages on the side of your kitchen counter is oddly satisfying.

Serves 8 to 10 people, number of monkeys uncertain.

Ingredients:

2 cans of refrigerated biscuits, like Pillsbury Grands

1/2 cup sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/8 teaspoon ground clove

1/2 cup whole pecans

1 tablespoon of orange zest

1 cup firmly packed brown sugar

3/4 cup butter, melted

about 2 to 3 tablespoons Amaretto. I don't know, really, since I've never been good at measuring alcohol.

Preparation:

1. Heat oven to 350 F. Lightly grease a bundt pan or other sort of tube pan with butter.

2. Combine sugar, cinnamon, and clove in a bowl (or a big Ziploc baggie if you're feeling wasteful). Stir to combine.

3. Check oven temperature.

4. Cut the sixteen biscuits into quarters and roll them into 64 little balls. Count them, if you like. Roll balls in the cinnamon sugar. Arrange in pan, adding bits of pecan and orange zest as you layer.

5. Check oven temperature.

6. Combine brown sugar and melted butter. Pour over biscuits.

7. Bake for about 30-35 minutes, or until golden brown. Remove from oven, letting the Monkey Bread rest in the pan for about 10 minutes to let the caramel cool a bit. Invert onto serving plate. Serve warm and do not cut. To serve, pull off bits and pieces comme des singes. Perhaps one might smear a bit onto whomever one is sharing it with for added effect.

One of the things I love about cooking around the holidays is experimenting with all the ingredients in my refrigerator. Although I have a great time planning our Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Year's feasts, I think I enjoy the impromptu ones even more. Take Christmas breakfast this year: although I had every intention of making cinnamon rolls the night before Christmas so we could have freshly-baked ooey gooey deliciousness in the morning, an ill-timed head cold forced me to bed early. So there we were, Christmas morning with no buns. What we did have, however, was a fridge full of fresh and luxurious holiday ingredients.

After my daughters had their fill of opening the slew of presents Santa left, I sidled into the kitchen and opened the fridge. As I stared at the contents, I started to get hungry. My cold was subsiding and my nasal passages were starting to be able to discern smells again. As I scanned the shelf before me, I realized I had all the makings for a great frittata: eggs, baby spinach, pancetta, ricotta, parmesan, and heavy cream. It didn’t take long to mix everything together, and once I did, my mother commented on how the pancetta’s pink color coordinated with the green spinach to make a lovely Christmas color combination. I stared at my plate and felt a bit like an accidental Martha Stewart until I looked up and was brought back to reality by my messy kitchen. Even better than how it looked, however, was the fact that the eggs, ricotta and heavy cream had merged into a gorgeous custard, with the pancetta, spinach and Parmesan adding both salty and savory flavors.

The foods I had on hand worked well for my needs, but I could have easily used a variety of other items many people have lying around during the holidays. If you have a refrigerator full of random leftovers from holiday menus, just use whatever sounds good to make your own great holiday frittata. Some items you may want to use are cheeses left over from an appetizer platter, crème freche, ricotta, heavy cream, baked ham, sausage, pate, or al dente vegetables. There’s nothing like a frittata to make the most of a 1/2 cup of leftover whatever.

I’m also including my recipe for breakfast sausage, which I made on Christmas morning to go with the frittata. I like to start with sausage meat from my local butcher, but you could just as easily cobble this dish together using mild Italian pork or chicken sausage, or bratwurst. Any sausage you like is fine as the real flavor comes from adding a few more ingredients to the meat. Sometimes I add rosemary, spring onions and mustard, but I have also tried and liked adding a tablespoon of maple syrup, thyme, and shallots. You could also toss in a tablespoon of fruit chutney.

Most of us don’t have heavy cream and aged cheeses sitting in our refrigerators on a daily basis, so if you have holiday foods left over, make the most of them. Chances are your cupboard will revert back to a more modest and healthier ingredients list in a week or two and the opportunity will be lost.

Holiday Frittata

Serves: 4 - 6 people

Ingredients:
6 eggs
1/2 cup ricotta, crème freche, or sour cream
1/2 cup heavy cream or whole milk
1/4 cup Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup chopped pancetta, sausage or bacon
1/2 cup fresh spinach or arugula
1 Tbs olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees
2. Place olive oil and your meat of choice into a medium pan that can go into the oven for 5-7 minutes or until your meat is lightly browned.
3. Meanwhile, whisk your eggs in a medium bowl until they start to get frothy.
4. Whisk in the ricotta, crème freche or sour cream and then add in the 1/2 cup of heavy cream or whole milk (please note that you should only use one of each ingredient, i.e., not heavy cream AND whole milk).
5. Once the meat is browned, add your spinach or arugula to the pan and sprinkle on a dash of salt. Mix and set in the oven for 2-3 minutes, or until the greens wilt.
6. Add the Parmesan to the egg mixture and then add it to the pan and bake for 5-7 minutes, or until the eggs become semi-firm.
7. Switch your oven to broil and place the pan about two inches beneath it. Broil your frittata until lightly browned and then quickly remove from the oven.
8. Serve.

"Homemade" Breakfast Sausage Patties

Makes: 8 - 12 sausages (depending on how large you make the patties)

Ingredients:
6 sausages (chicken or pork) or 1 pound sausage meat
1 Tbsp finely chopped rosemary
1 Tbsp Dijon mustard
1/4 cup chopped spring onions or shallots
1 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper

Preparation:
1. Remove sausage meat from their casings and place meat in a medium bowl.
2. Add all the other ingredients and then form sausage into patties.
3. If making baking in the oven, place the patties on a large baking sheet and cook for 10 minutes on each side or until the patties are thoroughly browned.
4. If making on the stove top, heat a large pan on medium high and fry patties on each side until browned and thoroughly cooked through.
5. Serve.

Whether it's a lazy weekend morning, or a busy holiday, there’s nothing nicer than having breakfast with family and friends. On Thanksgiving, I love to start my day by drinking coffee while I chat with my mom and sister as my kids and their cousins run around and play. Often, however, we need to chat and drink our coffee while also preparing for the big feast later in the day. As cooking a Thanksgiving or other holiday dinner is an all-day event, breakfast needs to be easy. So, while I am always tempted to make something elaborate, I rarely do as the morning plays second fiddle to the Turkey main event later that day.

But a recipe doesn't have to be difficult or time consuming to be delicious and look great. Case in point: Challah French toast stuffed with cream cheese and jam and topped with berries. Regular French toast is a universal favorite, but with just a little extra effort, you can make it exceptional. Even better, this breakfast couldn't be easier to make and you can even prepare most of the dish the night before.

I use Challah bread in the recipe as the egg dough makes it light and fluffy, which is perfect for French toast. You can use whatever bread you like, but just make sure it’s not sliced as you want to be able to cut nice thick pieces so you can create pockets for the cream cheese and jam.

The jam can be any flavor you'd like. I'm partial to using raspberry preserves for the filling and then topping the final product with fresh raspberries, but apple butter is a fantastic alternative and would go great with cooked apples on top.

The egg mixture is seasoned with vanilla, maple syrup, and cinnamon, which add sweetness and a great aroma. It also includes orange zest to brighten the flavors and add a little nuance to the raspberries. If you don’t have orange zest, you can just add in a tablespoon of orange juice.

Whether it's Thanksgiving, another holiday, or just a regular old morning, Challah bread French toast with cream cheese and jam is a pretty great way to start the day.

Cream Cheese and Jam Stuffed Challah French Toast with Raspberries

Serves: 6 - 8 people (double if feeding a larger crowd)

Ingredients:
1 loaf Challah bread
4 eggs
2/3 cup whole milk
Zest from one orange
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp vanilla
1 Tbsp maple syrup
1/2 cup cream cheese
1/2 cup of raspberry jam
Butter for frying
Warm maple syrup to top the French toast
Fresh raspberries
Powdered sugar

Preparation:
1. Cut bread into 1-inch thick slices.
2. Cut a pocket into the side of each piece and set aside.
3. With a butter knife, spread some cream cheese into the pocket of each slice and then spread some jam on top of the cream cheese. Note: If you tear a little hole in the bread while spreading the cream cheese or jam pinch the bread to seal.
4. In a large baking dish, mix the eggs, milk, orange zest, cinnamon, maple syrup and vanilla.
5. Set each slice of bread into the egg mixture, making sure each side is evenly coated. Turn each slice over so they're covered on both sides and then let sit for at least 5 minutes so the egg starts to soak into the bread. You can also let the mixture sit overnight. Just make sure you flip the bread in the egg so it's covered on both sides and then cover and refrigerate for up to 24 hours.
6. Heat a large griddle or frying pan to medium high.
7. Coat the bottom of the pan with butter (and don’t be stingy). Once it's sizzling, lay your egg-coated Challah inside.
8. Cover the pan and lower the heat to medium or medium low and let the Challah sit for 3-5 minutes or until golden brown on the bottom side.
9. Flip the Challah pieces and cover again until the French toast is browned on both sides.
10. Finish cooking the rest of the egg-dipped Challah (adding more butter between each batch) until finished.
11. Top finished French toast with maple syrup and raspberries.

Noshing on sticky buns the approximate size of your head is a Midwest breakfast tradition. I came to this realization early in life when, on a trip Up North to a friend's cabin, we had some relief from the constant yodeling (on the radio, not the parents, though it was the their choice of music for three hours straight) when we stopped at Tobie's in Hinckley, MN. Halfway between Minneapolis and Duluth, Tobie's is a famous rest stop/family restaurant where people mostly load up on enormous rolls, sticky with caramel and studded with nuts, while reading all about the famous Hinckley fire on informative place mats.

But you don't have to suffer an hours-long, yodeling car ride to get your hands on proper sticky buns. In Minneapolis, Isles Bun & Coffee is the place to go. It's been there for 15 years (current owners have had it for about half that time), and though I grew up less than two miles from the place, it still took James' recommendation on this last trip home to actually get me there.

James suggested we try the Puppy Dog Tails -- puffy twists of cinnamoned dough that have nothing of the snips and snails about them whatsoever -- and to make sure to get the icing. Well, we got two Puppy Dog Tails and a mongo sticky bun (the last in the pan, as it happened, and the baker asked us if we minded getting all the extra caramel goo and nuts. Um, no?!) and then we got the frosting. See, the frosting sits in a tall bowl over on the island where you get your milk, your cream, your sugar, and your soy stuff for your coffee. There's a wide cake spreader for self-dolloping, and just how much frosting you scoop out is between you and your fear of diabetes.

We got our heavy box home and armed ourselves with knife and fork before tucking in, because when it comes to Minnesota sticky buns, there is just no room for dainty fingers and small bites. You saw into these sticky buns as you would a porterhouse. You scrape up excess caramel goo as if it were mashed potatoes and pile it back on your piece of bun. (Going with the steak analogy, the pecans would be sautéed mushrooms, but I'm trying to get you hungry for breakfast, not dinner.)

I won't kid you, these buns are heavy. But it's a delicious, soothing heaviness that sinks into your bones as you eat them while slowly sipping your coffee. It might even make you tired were it not for the intense sugar kick you get at the end, which makes it a perfect way to start your weekend.

Isles Bun & Coffee Company
1424 W 28th Street (at Hennepin)
Minneapolis, MN 55408

Monday-Saturday 6:30am-4:00pm
Sunday 7:00am-3:00pm

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Sunday mornings are special at my house. Instead of rushing around and trying to make breakfast for my daughters while finding homework or soccer shoes, I get to lounge around, reading the paper while my husband cooks up a pot of steel-cut oats. I live for Sunday mornings, with my hot cup of coffee and steaming bowl of oatmeal.

Because one batch of oats was never enough to feed the four of us, my husband started making two batches each Sunday. But two batches was just a bit too much for our crowd and I often ended up with about a cup of cooked oats leftover. With this little container of oaty goodness each weekend, I set out on a quest to find the perfect oat cake recipe. Remembering some lovely oatcakes I used to order at a little café when we lived on Nob Hill, I started experimenting.

After a few tries, I came up with a recipe that created great breakfast cakes: supple, yet still firm, with a hint of nuttiness, and just the right amount of fruit to add bits of sweetness to each bite. They are the perfect quick breakfast for a hungry child before school, and an antidote to a crazy Monday morning.

I’ve also added jam, instead of fruit and nuts, to create a Sunday dessert. The outcome is a pan of delicious oat squares filled with gooey strawberries. It’s a crowd pleaser for both kids and adults.

With either recipe, these oatcakes take only about five minutes to throw together. So now, in addition to benefiting from the treat of a lovingly cooked oatmeal breakfast on Sundays, I get the added perk of a nut and fruit oat cake on Monday mornings, or strawberry oat squares Sunday night. It’s a win/win/win situation.

Note: For a great recipe detailing how to make steel-cut oats, see Kim Laidlaw’s Steel-Cut My Oats. Trader Joe’s also sells cooked steel-cut oats in their freezer department. I tried them in my recipe and it turned out great. So, if you’re not interested in making your own pot of porridge, this is a great alternative.

Nut and Fruit Oat Cakes

Makes 9 servings

Ingredients:
1 cup cooked steel-cut oats
3/4 stick of softened butter
1 egg
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup cut up currants, prunes, raisins or dried apricots
1/4 cup chopped pecans, walnuts or almonds

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degree.
2. Combine butter, sugar and egg and mix until combined. I use an electric mixer, but you can do this by hand.
3. Add in the cooked oats, being sure to fully incorporate it into the mix.
4. Mix the flour, baking soda and salt in a separate bowl and then add to the oat and butter mixture.
5. Add in fruit and nuts and mix until just incorporated (but not too much or the batter will become rubbery).
6. Spread the batter into a greased 8 x 8 pan.
7. Bake for 20 minutes or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean.
8. Cool and serve.

Strawberry Oat Squares

Makes 9 servings

Ingredients:
1 cup cooked steel-cut oats
3/4 stick of softened butter
1 egg
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup strawberry or other fruit jam
2 Tbsp brown sugar

Preparation:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degree.
2. Combine butter, sugar and egg and mix until combined. I use an electric mixer, but you can do this by hand.
3. Add in the cooked oats, being sure to fully incorporate it into the mix.
4. Mix the flour, baking soda and salt in a separate bowl and then add to the oat and butter mixture.
5. Spread half the batter into a greased 8 x 8 pan.
6. Top with the jam, spreading it evenly over the batter.
7. Spread the remaining batter over the jam.
8. Sprinkle brown sugar on top.
9. Bake for 20 minutes or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean.
10. Cool and serve.

My friend Mark, who knows about everything before I do, has been wanting to go to Brenda's French Soul Food for months. He planned to take some people to brunch there a few Sundays ago. It was, however, closed. They don't do Sunday brunch. Who can blame them? Unless drag queens are somehow involved, the thought of Sunday brunch makes me cringe. The two of us hoped to have dinner at Brenda's last week. The only glitch in that little plan was this: Brenda's doesn't serve dinner. Rather than being miffed, I found that news heartwarming.

When I was a young and foolish California Culinary Academy student, one of my courses called for creating a restaurant business plan. My teammates and I decided that a breakfast and lunch-only venue would suit our tastes just fine, since you can really mark up egg dishes. We'd be doing what we loved-- serving up great food, but we'd have our evenings free-- enabling us to have a relatively normal social life. We could have our pancake, as it were, and eat it, too.

Brenda's, then, is a place after my own heart. It's exactly what I'd want to do if I were crazy enough to run a restaurant.

Located at 652 Polk Street between Eddy and Turk, Brenda's shares a stretch of road with two other food venues. On its right is Kentucky Fried Chicken-- a place of no culinary pretensions whatsoever. To its left and across the street is the California Culinary Academy-- a sad, musty diploma mill that churns out nothing but culinary pretension every few weeks. Hovering somewhere pleasantly in the middle, Brenda's has not disturbed that delicate balance of the block in the least. What it has done, thankfully, is bring great food to the neighborhood.

When I arrived at Brenda's on Wednesday morning, I was told I might sit wherever I liked by a tall, thin gentleman with a scruffy beard who was, it would seem, the sole server on the floor. I took a small table near the door, where I could have a clear view of the customers around me.

The restaurant is small. Two white-clothed tables for four in the center of the room, one small table in the window, and five small tables along the left wall.Counter stools populate the right wall, just below a bank of mirrors which runs the entire length of the place.

I ordered a coffee and dug into my portable Sherlock Holmes, which I placed on top of my little notebook. To my left was a man about my age with a scruffy beard, also reading, but near the end of his meal. Looking at my notebook and camera, he asked me if I was going to do a write up on the place. I cringed at my obviousness. That and the fact that every man in the place, including myself, was wearing a scruffy beard. I lied to him and took another sip of coffee.

There were two men sitting in the window. One was a handsome fifty-something Frenchman . His non-French breakfast companion was rattling on loudly about Napa wineries, San Francisco restaurants and who he knew just about everywhere else. Fortunately, he made his great show of saying goodbye to Brenda before I started eating.

I asked my server which beignets he thought were best. He suggested I try the beignet flight ($8.00) and decide for myself. I did.

From fore-to-background in the photo above: plain, Granny Smith apple with cinnamon honey butter, molten Ghiradelli chocolate, and crawfish with cayenne, scallions, and cheddar. It is the order in which I ate them. My server stated that people normally consumed the crawfish first. I am delighted that I didn't, because it was by far my favorite-- the chewy sweetness of the crawfish popping every so often through the ooze of the cheese, the heat of the cayenne, and the sharpness of the scallion. I am already planning my return to have a full meal of them.

They were all quite good, really. The apple beignets weren't overly sweet. They had a subtle saltiness to them I found appealing. I'm not an expert on these pastries, per se, and I've heard some people (Yelpers) whine that beignets in New Orleans are normally much bigger and cheaper. I would hardly call the portions here small. Or over priced. In fact, nothing at Brenda's is more than $10.00.

Wondering what to order next, I asked my server's opinion on the matter. Mentioning that I was intrigued by the Pineapple Upside Down Pancakes with Vanilla Bean Cream and Ginger Butter, he said that, while they were great, I might not want them after so much beignet. He was right, of course. When I asked about the Hangtown Fry special I noticed written in white grease pen on the mirror across the way, he smiled. That's all I needed. It doesn't take much arm-twisting to get me to order a Hangtown Fry. "Grits or potatoes?" he asked. "I'm kind of a potato guy," I said. I saw his smile fade a little. "But, I suppose I'd better have the grits, right?" His face brightened. I was grateful for my ability to read social cues. I told him I'd keep the menu, in case I wanted to order anything more.

It is obvious from the above photo where I placed the most of my gustatory enthusiasm. The grits. Buttery, lightly peppery, and just salty enough. The pat of butter I was given may have been intended for the biscuit, but mine ended up on the grits. I did not ask for instructions.

I never knew I liked grits. In fact, my two or three previous experiences with the dish had left me rather bored. In my thoughts, grits were an unseen province of salty, beehived situation comedy diner waitresses and they were meant to be kissed in some kind of submissive fashion. Well, I kissed Brenda's grits, and I'll kiss them again, happily.

While I was tucking into the fry, a man and woman dressed in chef whites wandered into Brenda's from the Culinary Academy. I thought how sad it was that they couldn't find anything worth eating over there. The man, I noticed, had one bright blue eye and one of milky hazel. I got caught looking, so I initiated a brief conversation with them about the school. I admitted my status as an alumnus and warned them to keep a wary eye out for people who do not understand the etiquette involved in walking around a busy kitchen with 10" chef knives. Their reaction to the pitying look on my face when I was told that tuition at the school had nearly tripled since my graduation eleven years ago indicated to me that our little interview should end as quickly as possible. I went back to reading The Adventure of the Copper Beeches and stuffing my face.

As I sat eating and reading, another man of my approximate age and scruffiness sat at the table beside mine. I really must shave. Unlike his predecessor, he seemed uneasy in his status as a single diner. He tapped is fingers and wagged his foot as though it had fallen asleep within the first ninety seconds of his being in a seated position. When his eyes weren't darting about the place, they were fixed upon his iPhone. I didn't know whether to laugh (on the inside) or cry. Few people seem really at ease with dining alone. It made me mildly depressed, but it did give me an idea for another blog post, which made me mildly cheerful.

The Hangtown fry itself was good, loaded as it was with salty, smoked bacon and fresh, fried oysters. But my delicate, hummingbird frame was challenged by the enormous portions of both dishes tried. Delicate, too, was the biscuit-- the flavor of fresh butter melted in my mouth as is the way with the good ones and it had a flakiness that, had the biscuit taken a human form, might be diagnosed as Brittle Bone Disease by medical students. I mean that in a good way.

I was unable to finish my meal, being as well-stuffed as one of those beignets from earlier in the meal. I took my remaining victuals home and had them for lunch. The grits were good even then, served cold.

My server returned, looked at the menu still placed on the table, and said, smiling, "Are you still planning on ordering more?" My brain said yes, but my stomach disagreed. I looked out the window at the Eastern Park Apartments, a retirement home that is neither in the East nor anywhere near a park. I thought to myself that, if I kept eating like this, I might not live to an age which might necessitate my inhabiting such a place. I sided with my stomach and asked, instead, for the check.

Now, I do not know Brenda Buenviaje, namesake of the restaurant. I chose not to introduce myself nor ask questions during my first visit. My photo-taking and journal entries made me look idiotic enough. When I took a closer look at Brenda's website, I read her profile and had a better clue as to why the food made me happy-- she is a former head chef of Sumi (the only good restaurant in the Castro, as far as I'm concerned) and of Cafe Claude (my I'm- hungry-and-tired-of-watching-other-people-shop/ I-need-a-drink place of choice). She looks like someone I might like to sit down with over a glass of wine. I only hope, should that occur, that I can stifle my desire to blurt out grits-kissing remarks.

I'll be back to Brenda's, and soon. There's a lot there that I still need to try, like the Grillades and Grits, the Egg and Bacon Tartine, and those Pineapple Upside Down Pancakes. But really, it's that crawdaddy beignet. Second only to relieving my bladder, it was the first thing I thought about this morning. Really, I swear.

Brenda's French Soul Food is located at:

652 Polk Street (at Eddy)
San Francisco, CA 94102

Telephone: (415) 345-8100

Hours of Operation:

Breakfast is served Monday through Friday from 8 am to 3 pm.
Lunch is served Monday through Friday from 11(ish) to 3 pm.
Brunch is served on Saturdays from 8 am to 3 pm.
Closed, for now, on Sundays.

The most important meal of the day is too often ignored, lost amidst the grooming and rushing, a mere afterthought to caffeine. It takes hungry, curious children to remind us to slow down (acorn pancakes!) or friends visiting from afar to convince us to unearth our skillets.

As someone who grew up slurping big bowls of soup before heading off to school, I still haven't learned how to enjoy cold cereal or dry toast. Give me some leftover rice and a runny fried egg, though, and I'm ready for anything that Monday wants to throw at me.

You'd think that in the Bay Area, we'd be able to find breakfasts from around the world more easily: a plate of Turkish cheese and olives with some sourdough bread, spoonfuls of soft pongal or tender idli, even a bowl of pho or mohinga before 11 am. I imagine, though, that in the quiet of our kitchens, on all sides of the Bay, folks are preparing breakfast far outside the confines of frosted flakes. It's our most private meal, the one most dependent on comfort, habit and home.

The Irish and Filipinos, hearty eaters, have no problems sharing their breakfasts with a paying public. Nor do the Chinese, whether you're in the mood for a soothing bowl of jook or a parade of dim sum.

To get you thinking about morning meals....

Jon Huck's photographic study of breakfast is elegant and inspirational (via Mister Starfish).

And for a quick tour around the world, you can taste...

BLACK PUDDING

Not for the faint of heart, a traditional Irish breakfast covers all the important categories of meat: sausage, bacon and egg. Don't forget the Batchelors beans, a tomato, and both black and white pudding. Brew lots of strong Irish tea to wash it all down.

Durty Nelly's
2328 Irving Street
San Francisco, CA 94122
(415) 664-2555

Blarney Stone
5625 Geary Blvd
San Francisco, CA, 94121
(415) 386-9914

GARLIC FRIED RICE

Although the range of Pinoy breakfast is impressive, the default in Daly City has long been a mound of fried garlic-flecked rice served alongside Spanish-style longaniza sausage and a generous pile of sweet tocino, Southeast Asia's answer to bacon. Like the Irish, Filipinos like to round out their meal with a fried egg and a bright spot of tomato.

RSM Oriental Food Mart
1500 Sycamore Ave
Hercules, CA 94547

Sinugba
2055 Gellert Blvd, #5
Daly City, CA 94015
(650) 878-3591

Mercury Appetizer Bar
1434 Lombard Street
San Francisco, CA 94123
(415) 922-1434

JOOK

Hot and filling, easy to make and even easier to eat, this soup appears in pretty much every Asian country. Even its translation has nuances of flavor: congee, cream of rice soup, rice porridge, rice gruel. It's an innocent base upon which anything can be built. My own favorites are thinly slices of fish and freshly shucked clams. My husband's family serves it with pickles. My mom makes it with duck bones, while every year, during the last week of November, there's a flood of turkey versions across the country. Fortunately, jook restaurants abound, and their menus are long. Be sure to order a plate of you tiao "fried ghosts" crullers on the side.

Gum Kuo Restaurant
388 9th St
Oakland, CA 94607
(510) 268-1288

Hing Lung
674 Broadway
San Francisco, CA 94133
(415) 398-8838

Joy Luck Place
88 E 4th Ave
San Mateo, CA 94401
(650) 343-6988