Breakfast in Quarantine
With resources and boredom comes the opportunity to experiment and hone a craft, I have decided that would be breakfast, because I've already mastered the grill.
During the week, not that time or days of the week really means anything anymore, my mom has work calls all day, my sister depression binges Hulu, and my dad hasn't made breakfast for the family in years, so I've taken to making myself breakfast again, something I typically reserve for summers, or weekends when I'm alone.
Here is how my breakfast has evolved
My mom's shopping addiction, which is clearly hereditary, and also my dad has one too, focus mainly on clothing and food, so our fridge is stuffed, I would make myself kitchen sink eggs, hoping to reuse the previous night's meat and veg. This could be chickpeas and lamb in an omelet, or mash potatoes and chicken and kale. Regardless of the combos, I felt a sense of accomplishment, the food was good and I was fixing a storage problem that my parents seem to blatantly ignore.
However to her credit, my mom did something once thought impossible, she started making the correct amount of food, something unheard of in our house, and in fact most jewish houses. Before the pandemic it had happened literally three times, and that involved having at least of 10 or more people over.
So with this new scenario of minimal or no leftovers I could transition to raw ingredients to cook in the pan, prior to adding eggs. In all of this I've discovered a new flavor to mix into my palate, Hot Sauce. I'll add it to vegetables as I sauté them, or in the eggs as I whip them with the milk. I was learned subtlety for breakfast, adding salt, pepper and herbs as I mixed the eggs before pouring them on the pan.
I then combined then with a new found afternoon snack today, turning into the most brilliant breakfast, toast with hot sauce and camembert cheese, as a side to a three egg omelet with mushrooms, prosciutto, and kale. Half of it goes to me, and my parents split the other half, since I'm moving late and finish making eggs around 11. It was smashing
During the week, not that time or days of the week really means anything anymore, my mom has work calls all day, my sister depression binges Hulu, and my dad hasn't made breakfast for the family in years, so I've taken to making myself breakfast again, something I typically reserve for summers, or weekends when I'm alone.
Here is how my breakfast has evolved
My mom's shopping addiction, which is clearly hereditary, and also my dad has one too, focus mainly on clothing and food, so our fridge is stuffed, I would make myself kitchen sink eggs, hoping to reuse the previous night's meat and veg. This could be chickpeas and lamb in an omelet, or mash potatoes and chicken and kale. Regardless of the combos, I felt a sense of accomplishment, the food was good and I was fixing a storage problem that my parents seem to blatantly ignore.
However to her credit, my mom did something once thought impossible, she started making the correct amount of food, something unheard of in our house, and in fact most jewish houses. Before the pandemic it had happened literally three times, and that involved having at least of 10 or more people over.
So with this new scenario of minimal or no leftovers I could transition to raw ingredients to cook in the pan, prior to adding eggs. In all of this I've discovered a new flavor to mix into my palate, Hot Sauce. I'll add it to vegetables as I sauté them, or in the eggs as I whip them with the milk. I was learned subtlety for breakfast, adding salt, pepper and herbs as I mixed the eggs before pouring them on the pan.
I then combined then with a new found afternoon snack today, turning into the most brilliant breakfast, toast with hot sauce and camembert cheese, as a side to a three egg omelet with mushrooms, prosciutto, and kale. Half of it goes to me, and my parents split the other half, since I'm moving late and finish making eggs around 11. It was smashing
Comments
Post a Comment