A Revolutionary Breakfast

Breakfast, the most important meal of the day they say, well in Revolutionary Road that adage can be taken to hyperbolic extremes.
I unabashedly love Richard Yates! I've read most of his books, for me Revolutionary Road is a favorite, right next to The Easter Parade. However, nothing happy ever happens in his works, they are all heart wrenching and painful. Also, if you haven't read the book, keep in mind this post focuses on the end chapters and gives most of the ending away. SPOILER ALERT.

I love this cover, it says so much about what April is feeling.

Like I said, I chose the scene right at the end of the book, when almost nothing has gone the way April Wheeler has planned: she is not going to Paris, she is going to be stuck in a dull suburbia where she will have to mother yet another child, a child she does not want.

"When he [Frank Wheeler] went into the kitchen it seemed that his hope was confirmed. It was astonishing. The table was carefully set with two plates for breakfast. The kitchen was filled with sunlight and with the aromas of coffee and bacon. April was at the stove, wearing a fresh maternity dress, and she looked up at him with a shy smile. "Good morning," she said.
He wanted to go down on his knees and put his arms around her thighs; but he held back. Something told him--possibly the very shyness of her smile--that it would be better not to try anything like that; it would be better to just join her in the playing of this game, this strange, elaborate pretense that nothing had happened yesterday. "Good morning," he said, not quite meeting her eyes. He sat down and unfolded his napkin. It was incredible. No morning after a fight had ever been as easy as this--but still, he thought as he unsteadily sipped his orange juice, no fight has even been as bad as that. Could it be that they'd fought themselves out at last? Maybe this was what happened when there was really and truly nothing more to say, either in acrimony or forgiveness. Life did, after all, have to go on.
"It certainly is a--nice morning out, isn't it?" he said.
"Yes; it is. Would you like scrambled eggs, or fried?"
"Oh, it doesn't really mat--well, yes; scrambled, I guess, if it's just as easy."
"Fine. I'll have scrambled too."
And soon they were sitting companionably across from each other at the bright table, whispering little courtesies over the passing of buttered toast. At first he was too bashful to eat. It was like the first time he'd ever taken a girl out to dinner, at seventeen, when the idea of actually loading food into his mouth and chewing it, right there in front of her, had seemed an unpardonably coarse thing to do; and what saved him now was the same thing that had saved him then: the surprising discovery that he was uncontrollably hungry.
Between swallows he said: "It's sort of nice having breakfast without the kids for a change."
"Yes." She wasn't eating her eggs, and he saw that her fingers were shaking a little as she reached for her coffee cup; otherwise she looked completely self-possesed. "I thought you'd probably want a good breakfast today," she said. "I mean it's kind of an important day for you isn't it? Isn't this the day you have your conference with Pollock?"
"That's right, yes." She had even remembered that! But he covered his delight with the deprecating, side-of-the-mouth smile he had used for years in telling her about Knox, and said: "Big Deal."
"Well," she said, " I imagine it is a pretty big deal; for them, anyway. What exactly do you think you'll be doing? Until they start sending you out on trips, I mean. You have never told me much about it."
Was she kidding or what? "Haven't I?" he said."

What follows is a very stiff, quiet conversation about what Frank will be doing in his new position. Frank leaves the breakfast hopeful, almost happy about what was happening in his life. He has a great new job, a great wife that made him as he says a "swell breakfast" and the fighting between them seems to have abated.
I've wondered about this scene often over the years. I often wonder what exactly April was thinking as she prepared this breakfast for Frank. Of course it is hard to tell as it is all from Frank's perspective, so we, just as him cannot know April's thoughts. She knew that when he left she was going to abort the baby, and she knew that in doing so she would more than likely ruin her marriage, perhaps giving herself a chance to escape alone to Paris? She of course couldn't know that she was going to die either, but I wonder what she was really trying to accomplish. Did she want to hurt him more by creating this lovely "suburban" breakfast scene in her home, chatting up her husband before her went to work only to have him come home to the fact that she rid herself of their new child? Or was she really trying to forgive the fight? She does seem genuinely interested in the conversation of Frank's new responsibilities, but perhaps she is just, leading him on, is she just that cold?

So, breakfast. I did April Wheeler a little favor here and prepared the scrambled eggs "french style" basically it is a loose scramble where the eggs are creamier and come out looking more like cottage cheese. Perhaps, had she made it to Paris, she would eat her eggs this way everyday.
I used a simple recipe from an April 2012 (serendipitous!!!) Bon Appetit magazine I had.
The recipe itself is from Chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten
Ingredients:
4 Large eggs
2 tbs. chilled unsalted butter, divided.
Cayenne Pepper
Kosher salt

You can also see the bacon I am going to cook up too here.

Before I dive into the recipe here's a quick note: I recommend cooking the bacon in a cast iron skillet first before beginning any steps on the eggs. The eggs cook at a rapid speed and taking your attention off them for even a minute will result in disaster (believe me!).

Bacon! (Check out all that bacon fat! I like to save it in a jar in my fridge, I use it to add a little flavor to other recipes.)

Once the bacon is brown on both sides just pop the whole skillet in the oven (at say 250 degrees) to stay in there while you make everything else. Not only will the bacon stay warm it will also crisp up very nicely.

Ok recipe:
Combine eggs and 1 1/2 Tbsp. butter in a small room-temperature saucepan and season lightly with cayenne and salt.

All mixed up, note that the butter doesn't blend all the way in. That's ok, it'll melt pretty quickly in the pan.

Place over medium-low heat and cook, whisking gently and constantly while scraping the bottom and sides of the pan, until eggs are just thickened, creamy and small curds begin to form, 3-4 minutes total. (If mixture begins to stick to the pan while cooking, remove from heat; whisk gently for 30 seconds, then continue cooking over heat {I had to do this twice today})

Sorry for the blurriness, but it was nearly impossible to take a picture and whisk at the same time.

Remove from heat. Add 1/2 Tbsp of butter; whisk until melted. Season with salt.

Soft scramble! Though these came out a hair too "well done" I would have taken them off a few seconds earlier if I could. They were still delicious though.

I also made a little toast using my bread recipe from the Wind in the Willows post.
Finally, a little french press coffee (are you sensing a theme here? Poor April, the only Parisian lifestyle she will get is through food) and grapes, and you have yourself a nice suburban breakfast, fit for fixing your marital spats.

Bon Appetit!