Navajo breakfast

This has hardly been a culinary tour, actually often I have skipped a meal just because I did not feel like one after a long drive, my eyes had eaten landscapes all day, enough for me. Anyway, this is quite normal for me. This morning I am having breakfast at this lovely motel; it is served by a native american woman, probably the wife of the guy and the office. Their son, about 12 or 13, has a green punk, or should I say Mohican, haircut painted in green. I asked for the Fry Bread and what I got is a large round deep fried flat bread, a "focaccia", of yeasted white flour. It comes served with honey.
The temperature is fresh, the sky is grey, I was lucky yesterday with my sunset light.