I love the Olympics. Immensely. I will love them even this year, in spite of the fact that I think they should be in Chicago. I may in fact be the only person from the Chicago area that wanted them there, and, as things turned out I am no longer in Illinois and would not be seeing them in person. But still…
In observance of all that is the Olympics and in the Olympic spirit, for the duration of the Olympic games, starting Friday, I will be making breakfasts based on traditional breakfasts from all over the world. Or at least what I can find on the internet, I am in fact not very well traveled. I have an idea for a German breakfast as well as a Greek breakfast. For the UK I think I will try my hand at baked beans-done their way, not ours- and maybe a fry up. We currently have two guests from England, I may pick their brains for ideas. I am also hoping to try non-European and North American breakfasts as well. Whatever I chose, I know it will be yummy, cuz all my food is made with love. There-now everyone knows my secret ingredient.
Aside from the plug for our yummy breakfasts, I would like to use this blog to share with you all some of my favorite Olympic memories. The first Olympics I remember were the 1988 Calgary Olympics. I don’t remember the games themselves, but I remember watching the first day of the games with my mom and my aunt and uncle. Not sure why they came over to watch them but there they were.
The year they were in Greece, I watched the opening ceremonies with my friends Nick and Jeff. We made pierogies and Saganaki. Yes, an odd combination, but it was fun and delicious. There may have been a salad in there somewhere as well. This is absolutely unrelated to the Olympics, but I remember this evening because me and my friend Jeff stood by his front door for a long while discussing road kill. If you don’t already get it, I’m a bit odd.
I was living in Madison, WI during the Sydney Olympics. Not the happiest of times for me. I worked second shift and I would watch them in the middle of the night when I got home from work-which actually meant I got to see them live because of the crazy time difference. My lasting memory of those games is watching Savage Garden perform the song Affirmation at the closing ceremonies.
By far my favorite Olympics memory is the party me and the Boo threw for the London games. I never appreciated English cooking until I cooked a party full of it. I must say this before I go any further, they had an outstanding opening ceremony, and while I am not English, nor do I have any English ancestry, nor have I ever been to England, Blake’s Jerusalem always brings a tear to my eye. Anyway, back to our party. We decorated our condo with flags from all sorts of countries drawn on paper plates with markers. I absolutely missed the boat with my Toad in a Hole. I precooked the sausage because I thought it would be too greasy, not realizing that the grease makes the bread AWESOME. And my bread did not poof up like yorkshire pudding. Aside from probably not being super duper authentic the food was great, and everyone seemed to like it.
And that’s really the important thing, and the point of this blog. I use food as a way to experience cultures I’ll probably never get to experience in person. The idea behind the Olympics is supposed to be a coming together of all of us, and while yes we will back our respective countries, we can still appreciate everyone there working their pants off(not literally that-would be awkward, and I believe there was a winter Olympics where a skeleton guy slid down the course without his sled, and did indeed lose a bit of his clothes). I will never be an athlete, but I can cook and I can share with my guests a little of who I am through my food. And if they leave happy, then that’s all I can ask for, and that does make me feel very Olympic.