Some people don’t like eating in bed. I get it. The crumbs. The mess. The lack of stability. Having to throw off the covers and trek back to the kitchen because you forgot to salt your popcorn. Mostly, I am one of these people. I don’t do late-night snacks under the doona, and I don’t leave condiments next to the bed a la Nigella, waiting for my next pillow-side supper.
But there is one exception: breakfast in bed. I love it. Love. It.
Some of my favourite meals - ever - have been eaten in bed, and all of them have been breakfast. When I was little and not feeling well, my mum would make me cinnamon toast (literally toast topped with butter, cinnamon and sugar, and probably outlawed by DoCS/Pete Evans by now) and I’d get to eat it in bed, something I was never allowed to do. As an adult, there’s something heavenly about waking up, realising it’s Saturday and deciding to eat your Vegemite toast in the warmth of your bed sheets.
It’s a huge indulgence, and of course, it’s the perfect way to make an irrevocable mess in your bed. It must only be attempted on days when you’re going to wash the sheets anyway, because it’s too gross to even contemplate cosying back into bed that night alongside crumbs and the odd splash of coffee.
As for the meal, my preference is a multi-course breakfast in bed, as if I am staying in a fancy hotel that just happens to resemble my house.
And it’s strictly a weekend-only affair, for obvious reasons: breakfast in bed is a luxury to be enjoyed and savoured. Nobody wants to scoff down a bowl of Just Right in bed on a Monday.
But on weekends, when time is abundant and you’ve got nowhere to be but your bed, having breakfast there is a privilege and a right. Start with coffee - of course. I like to do a French press, so then I can refill from my bed, rather than getting up every time I polish off a cup.
As for the meal, my preference is a multi-course breakfast in bed, as if I am staying in a fancy hotel that just happens to resemble my house entirely.
Start with fruit, for instance - eaten with a fork to minimise spills. Then you want to move on to the pastry portion of the show, which requires forward planning. Buy your croissants the night before, ready to be slathered in butter and jam, and eaten without paying heed to the flaky mess you’re making all over your sheets.
Poached and fried eggs are too hard to eat in bed; scrambled eggs can be eaten with a spoon.
The main event should be something completely indulgent. For breakfast, I almost always head down a savoury path because I feel like, if I’ve gone sweet too early in the day, there’s nowhere else to go.
So, a full Australian. Eggs scrambled with a dash of cream, and plenty of salt and butter (poached and fried eggs are too hard to eat in bed; scrambled eggs can be eaten with a spoon). Half an avocado smashed onto a piece of sourdough, again with generous sprinkles of salt and pepper. Haloumi grilled to squeaky perfection. Crispy bacon (fat still attached, please and thank you).
And more coffee. Of course.
You’ll want a side of entertainment with your brekky, and while the temptation is to pick something highbrow like the new Ann Patchett book (which, admittedly, sounds amazing) or a broadsheet newspaper, may I be so bold as to suggest you… watch TV? If you don’t have a TV in your bedroom, bring in your laptop and settle down with a few episodes of your current binge.
Breakfast in bed is meant to be lazy as, and watching TV while you eat in bed is about as lazy as it gets, don’t you think? Bon appetit.
Starting from Saturday, 10 September, Breakfast in Bed airs Saturday and Sundays from 10 - 11:30am (AEST) on Food Network. After they air, episodes will be available on SBS On Demand.