One of the pleasures of Sunday morning is the understanding that it is special day. Its not a weekday where my morning is dictated by responsibilities that I have to fulfill. Regardless of the fact that they are related to my teaching, I'm still bound by a house filling with sleepy-eyed children and a wife waiting for her coffee all who need to be fed and out the door by 7:30 at the earliest and 7:50 at the latest. Saturday has its own issues. Activities, projects, and little things I have put off all week now come knocking,demanding my attention.
But Sunday, Sunday is special. Usually I'm up first, the house is still quiet, if I'm lucky (or blessed) there is a soft breeze flowing through the house. Our cat Braveheart runs ahead of me either to his bowl or to the door, wanting a few seconds of my time to help him out. There may or may not be a reminder of prep work I need to do for lunch.(Today I went to cut banana leaves to wrap some Yucatan pork). The twist of a knob, and the Moka Coffee pot is percolating on the stove-top. The house is still quiet. I have the family room all to myself most Sundays for almost an hour, perfect for Bible reading or catching up on a book.
Eventually I return to the kitchen and melt 6 tablespoons of butter in a cup of milk, adding a cup of flour when the milk is hot. Letting it cool I beat 3 eggs into the batter until it is thick and fairly stiff. At some point the kids and then the wife make their way into the living world. Using a cookie gun with a large star form I cut churros right into hot oil. Cullen makes a chocolate sauce and everyone rushes to eat.Tradition.
