If you’re at all like me, when you want a big plate of breakfasty type food, its usually on a Saturday morning when in a bleary eyed stupor, you stumble into the kitchen having just left the warm, comforting cocoon of your covers with what could only be described as an extreme bed head situation. You’re hungry, cranky and the last thing you want to do is spend an hour in the kitchen whipping up eggs and dealing with bacon splatter on your impossible to clean stove top.
It’s all just so overwhelming. So much so, you close the refrigerator door, mumble curse words under your breath, dream of hitting the local diner for breakfast then decide against it and go back to bed. You wish you’d have had the foresight to throw something together the night before. One of those dishes that sits overnight in the pan and ruminates in all it glorious eggy, bready, bacony goodness. One of those dishes that wants only to be popped in the oven in the morning to happily bake away while you lounge in bed with a big cup of coffee and the latest issue of
The Wall Street Journal People magazine.
This recipe is just such a one. Super easy and pretty minimal on the prep. It does take some planning to execute, some forethought the night before but the payoff is pretty darn worth it. I’ve become addicted to that feeling of relief one gets when you prepare food in advance. There’s just something so reassuring about knowing that the next meal is in effect taken care of. You know what it is. The feeling you get when you walk in the door and smell the Kalua pork roasting away in the slow cooker after a long day, that feeling, for even just a moment, no matter how the day has gone, that you’ve accomplished something, you’re not the complete hot mess that you usually are. For that brief shining moment your teenagers absolutely think you walk on water. Soak it all in sister.
It’s a good feeling. So good in fact that if you’re having a bad day, week, month you should consider making this. You look like a genius despite feeling otherwise and your morning is saved. It’s guaranteed to fix you right up. Pinky swear promise. Then, all you have to do is stir up a spicy, dirty Bloody Mary, crawl back into bed and wait for the buzzer to sound.
This recipe is my latest installment over at the Issaquah Press. You can get it HERE .