After a sleepover at Nanny and Papa's, Violet was excited to tell me about the breakfast she had with Papa when she got up early with him.
I knew before she told me what it would be, because my dad used to make the same thing for me when I was a little girl who woke up earlier than the rest. *Ahem. Pardon me while I get choked up here. Sniff. Okay. I'm okay.*
A piece of toast with butter. A little bowl of (real) maple syrup.
Dip. And eat. And dip. And eat. You can time it so that your syrup lasts till the last bit of toast (you may have to scoop up extra towards the end to make it work out perfectly). Then use your finger to swipe up any bits of crumby syrup that's left behind. It takes focus and concentration to not waste any drops as you carry the syrup to your mouth.
In many families, food is a legacy that passes in simple ways, and I can only imagine that my grandmother used to make this for my dad when he was a little boy who woke up earlier than the rest. It's like the onion and mayonnaise sandwich I eat once a year on my grandmother's birthday, because it's delicious and perfect in its simplicity and the memories it carries.
I can imagine Violet, 30 years from now, making this for her child and saying, "My grandpa used to make this for me when I was a little girl".