A cookbook with a memoir at its heart—about breakfast, the joy of a father and son cooking together, and how we show love through food.

Breakfast may be the most important meal of the day, but it’s also the most intimate and personal. It’s when we’re in our pyjamas and with our families, not quite ready to face the world. It’s what we crave when we want comfort and it’s the easiest way to turn us back into kids again.

Mark Pupo got into the habit of preparing big breakfasts every Sunday with his neurodivergent kindergartener, Sam. Everything else in life was tough and complicated, but making breakfast together was weirdly easy. (It turned out Sam loved to crack eggs, and he was really good at it.) In the kitchen, the pressure was off and they had all the time in the world to goof around. This book is a record of that first year of a father and son cooking together—of what became their weekend ritual.

Filled with playful illustrations and 52 recipes for a full year of weekend breakfasts, Sundays is a journey through Mark and Sam’s morning adventures. Starting with simpler challenges, like Toast Soldiers and Almond Butter Overnight Oats, it builds to Mark’s favourite inspired dishes, including Eggnog French Toast Bake, Pumpkin Spice Pancakes, Cheddar Polenta Cakes, and Saucy Poached Eggs with Feta. Mark also revisits his own childhood breakfast obsessions (Pop-Tarts, egg sandwiches, and the elusive perfect bagel, to name a few), and along the way explores the surprising origins of breakfast staples.

By turns witty, charming, frank, and filled with delicious breakfast ideas, this book is for anyone who wishes every morning began with a stack of pancakes. Sundays is an infectious celebration of the most important meal of the day and the most important people in our lives.

---

Banana Bread with Brandy Butter Icing

 There are Sundays when the usual breakfast staples—eggs, meat, griddled this and that—just aren’t appealing. Or when you’ve got people coming over who don’t eat meat or object to the scent of cooking eggs, or are otherwise impossible to please. In those circumstances, it’s good to have a backup. That backup should be banana bread. Even the lightest banana breads are heftier and more filling than most other baked goods. Add some icing (our household is fond of a butter icing with a touch of brandy) and serve it with a big bowl of fruit salad or fresh berries, plus a fresh pot of coffee, and you’re set.

It goes without saying that you can’t make banana bread unless you’ve got ripe bananas, so for all my talk of a “backup,” this recipe still requires some forethought. It’s also heavy on the bananas—four, compared to the typical two- or three-banana loaf—and is best made in a Bundt pan. So, if we’re being strict about it, this is technically a cake, but so is any “bread” that you make by creaming sugar and butter. Nuts are optional, but if your visitors aren’t allergic, I recommend mixing some chopped toasted pecans into the batter and then, after you’ve iced the top of the cake (bread!), placing a half-dozen pecan halves on top. The nuts say, “Hey, I made some effort, and pay attention because this isn’t your average banana bread.”