Brigid and I went walking a couple of nights ago, and I couldn't help but remark that the air, the general feeling of late August is so different from the rest of the summer. I'm not sure if it's the crickets chirping, the oh-so-slight chill in the early morning air or just the ingrained feeling of apprehension that comes with the fall season, but there is a definite shift somewhere around the fifteenth of August.
A long time ago, when I was still in my pre-college school days, my mom used to make us a special breakfast around the start of the school year (and on some Saturdays, too). I've always said that no one makes toast the way that my mom does, and this fancified version is no exception. Simply put, this is broiled cinnamon and sugar toast. But with the right amount of butter, a healthy sprinkling of sugar & a light dusting of cinnamon, the broiler creates an almost creme brulee-ish crust that far outreaches the power of any toaster. I made it for myself yesterday morning, in a moment of nostalgia, while standing in a dimly lit kitchen at 6:30 AM. And not surprisingly, it had the same effect as it did so many years ago: I immediately wanted to march back upstairs, climb back under the covers and sleep for just a few more minutes. If only. :)