There is a bright spot or two for the Spaniards. French toast has become freedom toast on the Air Force One breakfast menu, but the Spanish omelet is still a Spanish omelet.
quote by Suzanne Fields

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Related quotes

So in our pride we ordered for breakfast an omelet, toast and coffee and what has just arrived is a tomato salad with onions, a dish of pickles, a big slice of watermelon and two bottles of cream soda.
quote by John Steinbeck

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You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs.
Rashers of bacon—
sun has made an omelet
Autumnal breakfast
haiku by Mark Heathcote

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There is no such thing as a pretty good omelet.
You cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs.
Breakfast
Of all the meals that glad my day
My morning one's the best;
Purveyed me on a silver tray,
Immaculately dressed.
I rouse me when the dawn is bright;
I leap into the sea,
Returning with a rare delight
To honey, toast and tea.
My appetite was razor edged
When I was in my prime;
To eggs and bacon I was pledged . . .
Ala! the March of Time;
For now a genial old gent
With journal on my knee,
I sip and take with vast content
My honey, toast and tea.
So set me up for my delight
The harvest of the bee;
Brown, crispy toast with butter bright,
Ceylon - two cups or three.
Let others lunch or dinner praise,
But I regale with glee,
As I regard with grateful gaze
Just honey, toast and tea.
poem by Robert William Service

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I went to a restaurant that serves "breakfast at any time". So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance.
quote by Steven Wright

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I went to a restaurant that serves ""breakfast at any time"". So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance.
quote by Steven Wright

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Toast Of The Town
Hey, hey, hey
Hey kid, the whole house is shakin
We got the time, right in our sights
Hey, hey, hey
Hey kid, the worlds gone crazy but you know
It wont last too long
You know it wont last too long
You know it wont last too long
You know it wont last too long
Hey kid, youre the toast of the town
Well hey kid, youre the toast of the town
Hey, hey, hey
Hey kid, whats it gonna get ya
Screaming through the hours of the night
Hey kid, the worlds gone crazy
But you know it wont last too long
You know it wont last too long
You know it wont last too long
You know it wont last too long
Hey kid, youre the toast of the town
Well hey kid, youre the toast of the town
You heard me sayin baby dont be a fool
I got news for you
Well pack your things baby, dont be a fool
Before it crashes down on you
Down on you
Down on you
Down on you
(guitar solo)
Come on
Well hey kid, youre the toast of the town
Well hey kid, youre the toast of the town
Well hey kid, youre the toast of the town
Well hey kid, youre the toast of the town
Well hey kid
song performed by by Motley Crue

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Toast the New Year
Have a toast and drink to me
and taste the sweetened drink.
And I, myself shall have a sip
before I sit and think.
And though you're there
and I am here
the drinks will slowly disappear
and once again in separation
we begin another year.
Oh to start the year anew
and not know what it will bring
will have me go from day to day
always wondering.
Shall it be filled with agony
or will the toast I make come true?
Only time will answer that
or the toast that was made by you.
poem by Edwina Reizer

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Eat
Cold and dark in the morning
talk comes with a price
it is a bargain for the waitress
and diners get what they need.
The eggs are served with sympathy
for another birthday missed
the road is more than miles for
the trucker who takes them over hard.
Booth number 9 is an omelet and oatmeal
a preacher and acolyte looking for a church
the preacher's collar is frayed and yellowed
in service to a god who speaks too softly.
At the table by the door the farmers drink
coffee and talk of weather tractors prices
they have the look of a dying breed not because
they are old -their sons are off to college the
army the city or anywhere else
daughters will wait
not one of them will marry a farmer.
A young couple passing through
sits in number 8 close almost huddled
the boy counts his coins the girl looks cold
the waitress brings hot tea
'It's on the house honey.' They order toast
to share, she slips ham onto to the
plate when the cook's not looking
'I'll take that outta your tips.'
he never does.
The woman at the end of the counter
tattoos a glass with her lips
she is the blue plate special one egg
one pancake two strips of hard salty bacon
the long night gives her an appetite for
comfort and something real before going home
to wash the haze of stale cologne out of her hair.
Street lights go out
the sun promises warmth
diners pay bills homage thanks
and go out to live in the light
the waitress cleans tables
then counts her tips
She floats from counter to table
to booth serving coffee water eggs toast and
some things not on the menu
reassurance hope sustenance for the day
she takes their orders brings what they need
and all of this beneath a sign that says EAT.
poem by Ronald Shields

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Spanish is the language of lovers, Italian is for the singer, French for diplomats, and German for horses.

Just as there is nothing between the admirable omelet and the intolerable, so with autobiography.
quote by Hilaire Belloc

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The French are endowed with bigger limbs; those of the Spaniards are stronger; they have a very slim waist. The French fight with more ferocity than advise. The Spaniards the opposite.
quote by Michael Servetus

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I love my lifestyle now, but at the end of nine months, you're toast. You are toast. It's like running a marathon. You can't think while you're doing it. Especially when different directors come in who are not part of the posse, the circle.
quote by Christopher Meloni

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If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it
quote by Steven Wright

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If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happen if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?
quote by Steven Wright

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Drink Poetry, Oh Ye of Small Faith
Drink poetry, oh ye of small faith:
Drink poetry from a bottle
Drink poetry from a book
Drink poetry from a fountain
Take another look.
Drink for sanctuary
Drink for inspiration
Drink for endurance
But never hesitation.
A toast to poetry
And a toast to time
A toast to us:
Live forever in rhyme.
poem by Patti Masterman

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Spanish Harlem
There is a rose in spanish harlem
A rose that grows in spanish harlem
Its never seen the sun
It only comes up when the moon is on the run
And all the stars are leaving
Well, it grows right in the street
Up between the concrete
But soft and sweet, and (breathing? ? )
There is a rose in spanish harlem
A rose that grows in spanish harlem
Oh, with eyes as black as coal
That reach down in my soul
And start a fire I cant control
I beg your pardon
Well, I want to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows
In my garden
There is a rose in spanish harlem
There is a rose in spanish harlem
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen

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You are sitting on the veranda
You are sitting on the veranda
enjoying the breakfast
of eggs fried with tomato with toast
and huge cups of very special tea
that I had made for you.
Sweet innocence radiates from you
while you watch the blooming
purple irises, some white lilies, pink,
orange and ruby red geraniums
and birds fly down
from the pepper tree
to peck up the seed
that I had put out for them.
There’s a melody in your voice
while you give some toast with Marmite
to the dogs that gather
with twisting tails
to get their treat
and the morning is sweet
and our house is a moated fort,
a treasured place
where only we are locked in.
poem by Gert Strydom

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