Jessai Flores

Big Breakfast has lied to us for too long. 

Those faceless breakfast branding consultants tried to convince us that we needed to fuel up in the morning. We, as college students, know that’s not the case.

Lunch powers us through those afternoon classes. Dinner gets us through the evening. Heck, even afternoon or late-night snacks could make a claim for the title. But breakfast? A few eggs, maybe some fruit? Don’t be absurd.

And yet, I’m a devoted breakfast eater. In my first semester at Yale, two friends and I ate together in the Saybrook dining hall at 9:45 a.m. every day. Second semester, when they decided they weren’t cut out for the early meal schedule, I found new companions. 

Now, despite facing the fearful opposition that kills most breakfast aspirations — Tuesday and Thursday 9 a.m. Spanish — I continue to start my mornings in the JE dining hall.

Why do I do it? Why do I put myself through the Hell that is less sleep for the sake of three hard-boiled eggs every day? 

Here’s the thing. Big Breakfast used the wrong equation, but they reached the correct answer. They were accidentally telling the truth when they told us that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. 

No, you will never convince me that it fuels me to be a “big, strong boy” for the day. But it does set a vibe, and that matters just as much. Waking up at a somewhat early hour and having the time to turn on my brain is a game-changer.

Sprinting to class ten minutes after rolling out of bed sets a harried tone. Strolling into a tranquil  dining hall to sit and talk for half an hour before meandering over to class allows for a calm start.

My three-person first-semester breakfast club broke up because of their aversion to early starts and breakfast food. However, they remain two of my closest friends thanks to the silly, “my brain is still only at thirty percent functionality and we’re talking about Presidential Hunger Games” discussions we had.

I’ve also grown closer to my JE comrades just by showing up with nothing but a willingness to sit with new people. I’ve even enjoyed the occasional breakfast alone, with time to gather my thoughts in the middle of busy weeks. But despite the positives of a morning meal, we can’t forget the evil we’re facing.

Big Breakfast’s Big Lie needs to die. We don’t need mushy oatmeal or pulp-free orange juice. We don’t need un-peelable grapefruits or underripe bananas that test my colorblind eyes’ ability to distinguish between yellow and green. We don’t need any more french toast casseroles or bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches that are 90 percent bread. There are thousands of Yale students who prove on a daily basis that we can survive without these things. 

But they will never know the bliss of morning tranquility. They don’t know what they’re missing.

It angers me to grant Big Breakfast this acknowledgement of their own importance. They don’t deserve this praise after the misinformation they’ve spread. Somewhere out there, a cabal of Tropicana and Kellogg’s executives are gleefully celebrating the award of my highly-esteemed stamp of approval. 

But I can’t help myself. Breakfast, at least according to my daily-vibe-o-meter, is the most important meal of the day, and it’s high time we accept that.