The Admiral's Daughter's Breakfast

My Dad was a naval officer. He was also the son of a naval officer, brother of two naval officers (one male, one female), father, uncle and great-uncle of naval officers. Our family has sea water in our veins. When my Dad was chosen for the rank of admiral, however, both his daughters wailed, "But, Daddy, we don't want to be admiral's daughters!"

You see, in the Navy, admiral's children are known to be smarmy little brats, spoiled from birth and impossible to like. All our lives, as we rode the bus to school, the various admiral's kids were recognized and reviled. My mother recalls me coming home from school one day to complain with 7 year old scorn about one admiral's son, "Felix Stump is the baddest boy on the bus!" We foresaw similar opinions about ourselves.

Too badski, he chose to accept the rank over our vociferous protests, and along with it came a new member of our family, a steward. His name is Benjamin Banks. He had joined the Navy as a very young man - when we first knew him, he couldn't have been more than 19 or 20 years old. Stewards in the Navy are cooks; my mother was in heaven! Once she taught him how to make her favorite recipes, she sat back and enjoyed every minute of not having to cook for our family of ravenous appetites.

He invented my favorite form of scrambled eggs, which he called "smashed eggs," and would make them for me almost every morning, back before eggs and bacon were considered dangerous substances. Simplicity itself, smashed eggs are softly scrambled with little bits of crispy bacon thrown in during the cooking. There is something about the salty, smoky bits enrobed in moist egg that simply can't be beat - the whole is even better than its excellent parts. If I have any leftover bacon, I'm very likely to make smashed eggs with it. Sadly, Chief Banks lives in Richmond, Virginia rather than Richmond, California, so he's not here to make it for me as he did for so many mornings, back when I was a spoiled brat of an admiral's daughter.