- Sunday is my day to sleep in while the hubs gets up with the kiddos.
- I don't really do much "breakfast" in the kitchen.
I currently am visiting my parents with the sous chefs and so please accept my apologies for not posting to the blog personally. Since he created a great meal and also because he is a great writer my hubs should do a guest blog!
Other than work-days, the weekend is the laziest time of the week for me.
Back in ancient times, long before computers, machines, and migrant workers, people worked hard and broke a sweat for a living, and breakfast was the most important meal of the day. It was not uncommon for one to consume two, maybe even three thousand calories in one morning’s sitting and then to burn them off in the fields before Ma came out on the porch to ring the triangle.
I’ve always had a personal dream of eating myself into a coma and then watching TV for the rest of the day. On Sunday, that dream finally came true, and I was able to share it with my family!
The pig is my all-time favorite animal to eat for breakfast. Having raised me in a kosher house for a portion of my life, my Jewish mother is so proud of this fact. I knew that whatever we ate Sunday morning had to include bacon and/or sausage. When I’m cooking, though, the word, “or,” gets tossed out the window.
Despite the delicious swine, the star of the show that gluttonous morning was the french toast, made with some day-old Challah in what might have been a guilt-laden attempt to appease my semitic roots. I sliced the Challah extra thick to ensure maximum creaminess on the inside, then served topped with butter (heart-healthy, of course) and imitation maple syrup. YUM!
Still, our plates were not completely happy. When in doubt, always scramble some eggs (with whole milk, 1 tablespoon per egg), and fry up some breakfast potatoes (already prepped by the good people at Ore-Ida – just follow the package directions).
Finally, wash down that heart-attack with some cold OJ and a steaming cup of black coffee.
What a wonderful start to the week! We didn’t eat lunch until 3 that day, but first we watched Charlotte’s Web, the smoky remnants of the bacon lingering on our breaths. Some pig… Some pig, indeed.