A different sort of breakfast

March 21, 2013

It looks kinda like the cat threw it up, but it's good.

It looks kinda like the cat threw it up, but it’s good.

My Memphis Guinea Pig was over a weekend or so ago, because I’d emailed him and said I was in the notion for experimental cookery and needed a taster. It never takes him long to make his decision to make the drive over.

He got here late Friday, so we made do with some Chinese chicken and corn soup, the recipe for which I had found through the Dark Side of the Fridge blog. It was the first time I’d made it, but I had roasted a chicken a few days earlier, and had lots o’ chicken left over.

This is some good stuff. The star anise and the ginger give it the nice Chinese flavor, and I threw in some sriracha for a bit of heat. It’s a little thinner than I usually like soup to be (I’m really more into stews), but it was rich enough to make up for it. And I really, really wished I’d had a side of good egg rolls to go with it.

Oh. And I used coconut milk.

And then we got up the next morning and wanted breakfast. A big breakfast, as it was damn near noon by the time we ate, and I had a substantial dinner planned.

I had eggs. I had bacon. I did not want bacon and eggs. It sounded boring. But I didn’t have any sausage thawed, nor anything else much that sounded breakfast-y, except for the makings for cheese grits. So, grimly, I set out the bacon and eggs and commenced to get skillets and accoutrements out.

Somehow, instead of lining up bacon strips in the skillet, I found myself dicing them up for lardons. By the time I had all the bacon in the skillet, a plan of sorts had taken shape in my mind.

I browned the  bacon, took it out of the pan and set it aside on a paper towel. While it was cooking, I diced an onion and minced three or four cloves of garlic. When the bacon was finished, I poured off some of the grease (saving it, per usual, in a crock on the counter; I can’t bring myself to ditch bacon grease) and threw in the onions. While they softened, I prowled about to see what else I might find.

I came up with a yellow squash and a can of tomatos (can’t find my last batch of roasted tomatos; I’d SWEAR I had not eaten them all, but who knows?). Dumped the tomatos in the strainer to drain while I diced up the squash, which went into the onions, along with the minced garlic, which I had forgotten. Grated some Parmigiano while that was cooking. And, on the basis that one cannot have too much cheese, I grated some smoked Gouda for grits.

Added the tomatos when the squash got done, beat six eggs together with a shot of half-and-half and the grated parm, and poured it in. Threw the bacon back in.  I’d thought about doing a frittata and decided, hell with it, I’ll just scramble the whole thing. Sprinkled on some freeze-dried basil for good measure.

It wasn’t half bad (which is good, because there was a metric assload of it). Alongside the Gouda grits, it made a pretty respectable breakfast.

There was a lot left over. Shame you ‘n y’mama ‘n ’em weren’t here to share.


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