There was a woman falling asleep on the metro today. Her head nodded slowly towards the shoulder of the man next to her until she would catch herself, then stumble again into sleep. At one point she leant over so far that you could see her name, ADELE, handwritten on the label of her brown dress. Her black, patent-leather shoes were coming apart a little at the seams.
That’s about how I feel in the mornings, even though I no longer leave with the first metro. Now I allow myself a full fifteen minutes to roll out of bed. Enough time to at least bring breakfast with me instead of relying on croissants. Most days that is a variation on a beetroot smoothie, in an attempt to balance out the inevitable charcuterie plate-rosé that is a Paris summer supper, on a terrasse or in a park. (Because of the heatwave – la canicule – that Parisians are so enjoying complaining about, a few of the biggest parks are going to be open all night on weekends, including les Buttes-Chaumont just up the hill. Which means no more park guardians with whistles peremptorily ordering us out mid-picnic. Which means more rosé! Less sleep!)
In the fridge, we normally have a packet of steamed beetroot, and raspberries in the freezer. Then whatever other fresh fruit and dairy lying around gets thrown in as well. Just the right balance of sweet/tart/earthy/creamy. I like to think of it as breakfast borscht, not least because the French way of pronouncing smoothie – smoo-zee – makes me a little twitchy. And it is a bright wake-me-up pink, cold and fresh enough to stop me nodding off in the metro.
Not really a recipe for a beetroot smoothie
One small cooked beetroot. A handful of frozen raspberries. Something juicy (a ripe peach, half a peeled cucumber, a large chunk of watermelon). A few tablespoons yoghurt, fromage blanc or lait fermenté. A splash of apple juice or water to thin it to desired consistency. Blend in a large widemouth jar until smooth. Add straw and screw on lid for portable breakfast. Done.