Your breakfast is the great betrayer. It tells everyone on your instagram stories who you are at your core. What you choose to set you up for the day puts your values, your delusions, and your deepest flaws on display. Whether you’re a die-hard porridge loyalist or the type to spend a tenner on an iced oat milk frappachino and call it sustenance, your first meal of the day says more about you than your star sign ever could.
Let’s get into it.
You’re either fresh off a stint in Bali or you’re on the wellness Kool-aid. You say things like “I just feel better when I eat clean” while mainlining cocktails every weekend. Your nails are definitely immaculate. Your smoothie game is strong, but so is your fear of the day you’ll have to pick a pension plan.
You’re a fiend for the soft life. If you’re going to suffer through this cursed existence, you may as well do it with a stack of syrup-drenched pancóga. You’re favourite brunch spot is probably Alma. You have a deep, unshakable belief that nobody makes pancakes like your mam. She’s offered to teach you but you gave up on measuring ingredients years ago so it never works out for you.
You think you're in Call Me By Your Name when you're actually in the queue at the bakery du jour. You have a tote bag, a deep mistrust of people who order caramel lattes, and an encyclopedic knowledge of pop culture feuds. You still believe one day you’ll wake up in Paris, despite your Clonskeagh address and crippling lack of disposable income.
You have more notions than anyone you know but maintain you’re not posh. You definitely say “just a little treat” 40+ times a week. You know where to find the best sourdough in the city, you’ve threatened to move to Berlin at least once, and you have very strong opinions on the concept of “vibes.” Your hinge bio references an obscure Scandinavian film, but your last Google search was “cheap flights to anywhere sunny.”
You are a soldier. You fear neither God nor the cost of living crisis. You know that a proper breakfast comes with as many types of pork as possible. You laugh in the face of brunch menus and consider avocado toast a personal attack on your values. Your love language is offering someone your second sausage but you always hope they’ll decline.
You are running on borrowed time and probably borrowed money. You have survived at least three existential crises this week alone, but you still believe in the healing power of a limp sausage roll when eaten in a bundle. You can’t tell if you have ADHD or are just a mess. Your best ideas happen at a taxi rank. Your worst ideas also happen at a taxi rank.
You have a low tolerance for BS. You know yourself well and don’t understand how people pleasers are formed. You are the friend that insists on splitting the bill exactly because “I didn’t get a cocktail.” You once sent a plate back over the wrong type of hollandaise and you have absolutely no regrets. You’re definitely the friend with the investment portfolio to match your designer handbag.
You are a quintessential millennial. You’re in skinny jeans even now and can’t wait for when Gen Alpha starts coming for these zoomers culture the way they have come for yours. You have seen Normal People three times and are still emotionally recovering. You think about moving to Lisbon at least once a month. You use the phrase “hot girl walk” unironically. You have a vision board and no idea how to file your taxes.
Your enemies should be afraid.
You have known hardship. You were raised in a house where the only acceptable breakfast cereals came in beige. You eat for function and would take all your meals in pill form if hungry wasn't a thing.
You own at least one candle that cost over €20 and refer to brunch as “self-care.” You went through a vegan phase and are still a little suss on butter. You’re big on insta but don’t quite ‘get’ TikTok. You’re 100% a slippers person and have a penchant for bubble baths.
You reject societal expectations. You have no bed frame but will shell out a fiver for the brand name coco pops cos the others just don’t do it like Kellogs. You have an affinity for the golden days of The Den, and can do a spot on Podge and Rodge impression. You live for drinking the chocolate milk at the end of the bowl. You are either a child, a student, or a fully grown adult who sees no reason to evolve.
You are a purist. You know that the key to happiness isn’t money, it’s the ratio of butter to bread. You would rather have a properly buttered slice of toast than any €15 french toast monstrosity. You have a deep, ancestral understanding of what makes something right and proper, and you would defend Kerrygold with your life. You judge people by how they store their butter, and you are absolutely correct to do so.
You are an icon. A legend. A hero of the working man. You know the value of a hot meal that can be eaten one-handed while steering a van. You’re no nonsense, no avocado, no messin’. You have a stack of order papers from Declan & Donal’s in the glove box ready to go. You always say “Sound, thanks” even though you’re barely awake.
You are correct.
So, what have we learned? Breakfast is a window into the soul. And some of your souls need more protein.
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