Claire and Albert both woke to the rooster. And so, with the exception of some chicory coffee, breakfast had to wait until chores were done and the rest of the farm was fed. It was late enough and hearty enough to hold their hunger until supper. Depending on the day of the week, breakfast was over easy, sunny side up, scrambled, poached, coaxed into a soufflé, carefully cracked to make eggs-in-the-basket, or coddled in porcelain cups. There were creamy grits, biscuits, apple butter and jam. On days that Claire was fortunate enough to serve a thick slice of ham, there was also redeye gravy.