The slices go into the toaster and stay there till I get the smell of the moisture within the slice pores rise and leave the bread golden brown and pleasantly crusted, the crust is warm enough to allow the cold butter melt over the surface and penetrate the crisp pores leaving the slice scented richly with an aroma that belongs to the royal kitchens. I apply the butter with all the leisure I can afford, dividing the cube into two, one for each slice, careful not to leave the edges out, one has to do complete justice to the golden brown. The red scoop follows (it is red today, apple, it is a clear yellow on other days, pineapple) the knife that buttered now dives into the jam, the jam melds without conflict into the butter turning from the glossy red to a hazy red with grains, the pores are now richer, full with the wealth of fresh butter and sweet jam the knife runs over the slice like breeze over a cornfield, not leaving a single patch untouched making it look like a velvet cloak in rich red.
Two slices carefully buttered and jammed the mixture oozing over the crisper edge on to the omelet garnished with mushroom chops.
I place the omelet (entire, two eggs within) on to one of the slices and use the other to complete the breakfast sandwich. More honey oozes over the surface of the omelet and the pores so rich, must be proud of their existence. I take my first bite and my taste buds are receiving surprises from the heart of my masterpiece, as the egg and the mushroom chops and the butter and the jam and the crisp bread perform the most perfect of all symphonies the most graceful ballet and the most sumptuous breakfast, I like to alternate between a bite of my sandwich and a sip of my deep tanned coffee, it nudges me gently into a brand new day.