A good reason to wake up in the morning in Tehran, Breakfast. I'm not a big lover of breakfast. Or at least the breakfast we have here. I've always preferred a slice of bread with olive oil and coffee than the usual biscuits and milk. The Persian breakfast completely reflects my taste. Not so grand as the English one, not so sweetish as the French one, the Iranian breakfast tells in its delicate simplicity the perfect balance of flavour. After waking up, we used to sit around the counter top that divided the living room from the kitchen.
Sob bekheyr azizam.
Azizami, sob bekheyr. Khubi?
Man khubam, merci. Khubi?
Kheyli khubam, merci.
Chay mikhai?
Bale, merci
Every morning I could brush up on my poor Farsi.
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