The faces of breakfast

April 26, 2018

Oh, hello, there. I used to hang out here some.

I used to cook some, in fact. And perhaps I will again. There just hasn’t been a huge amount of cooking at Chez Keyboard of late, in large part because I’ve been busy and gone and here and there and elsewhere and haven’t had my mind in the kitchen.

I have, however, cooked a couple of breakfasts. Well, I cooked one, and assembled t’other. Both were good, one was healthy, one likely less so. They both hit the spot, on different days.

There was this one:

The big ol’ breakfast

And this one:

Healthy breakfast. Can’t load up on fat every day.

Depending on the day, sometimes I’ll lean toward one, sometimes toward t’other. I got up hungry one morning, by virtue of not having eaten much the day before, and cooked the big ol’ breakfast of hash browns, eggs and bacon, with a slice of whole grain toast. It was pretty damn excellent, and spurred by the fact I’d bought a bag of frozen hash browns (the plain shredded kind, thankyouverymuch, none of your peppers and onions stuff, here). I just shook some out into a hot skillet with oil, salted and peppered them, let them cook a bit, kinda gathered them into a pile, and flipped them over. They didn’t stay real cohesive, but enough so they made a good nest for a couple of over-easy eggs, fried in the same hot oil, so the whites got a little crispy and the yolks stayed runny.

Bacon was the precooked that I nuked to warm, and the toast came off a loaf of King Arthur multi-grain that I’ve addressed before.

It was a fine breakfast, and tided me over until nearly dinnertime.

At the other end of the extreme, there were yogurt and granola and fresh fruit. I’ll gravitate to that a good deal more now that we’re about to get into fresh fruit season (there are Arkansas strawberries, already, and I’ll get some this weekend!). I keep homemade yogurt on hand most all the time, and make my own granola, and the breakfast was brought to¬† you by Aldi, which offered me blackberries for a buck for an 8-ounce clamshell package, which made two breakfasts. I bought two of them.

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Berries, and good help to pick them.

Welp, I’m going to have to set aside some time to spend in the kitchen; the season of “puttin’ up,” 2017 version, is fixing to begin to commence.

In my auxiliary refrigerator I have a dozen small heads of cabbage, which are destined for kraut. It’s a moderately labor intensive process, but the food processor takes care of the bulk of it, and salt and time the rest, so that can be dispatched relatively quickly. That, I suspect, is Monday morning. Then it can burble happily away in its “crock,” which is actually a five-gallon food-grade plastic bucket, for six weeks, until it’s ready to take out and can. And we will have kraut for another season.

More importantly, there are two gallons of blackberries in said second fridge, that I went and picked in less than 30 minutes yesterday morning. Yes, there is blackberry jam in my future! (Note to self: Go get sugar.)

I’ve been saying for ages I was going to go pick blackberries up at Scatter Creek Farms, north of me some 30-45 minutes. Last year, a summer hailstorm came through midweek before I was planning on going up that weekend, and did for the berries. This year, I figured I’d get going early. Had AGC 2 all weekend, and I decided he would probably be entertained by going to pick blackberries, and if nothing else, could romp about for a bit and wear himself out.

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More summer bounty

July 10, 2016

We are talking significant blackberries, here.

We are talking significant blackberries, here.

This, my friends, is a blackberry. A blackberry that appears to have been on steroids prior to its harvest. A blackberry whose size is exceeded only by its taste and juiciness.

Lord, I love ’em. And this has been a banner year for ’em.

You may remember back a week ago, I’d been to not just one, but two, farmers’ markets, because I was intent on scoring some blackberries, and the local market didn’t have any. So I went to the next town over and bought berries.

I brought home two quarts of these beauties, which reposed in the fridge for close to a week as I worked my way through some of the astonishingly good collection of fruit I’d accumulated. (Have I mentioned how much I love summer?)

And I decided I would make a blackberry pie.

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