Another gluten-free breakfast

November 13, 2017

Here’s a bread-free breakfast with a twist.

You really don’t NEED bread for breakfast.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing much better than a hot, fluffy biscuit, dripping butter, cozying up to a pile of scrambled eggs, a scoop of pear preserves, and three or four slices of thick cut bacon, fried perfectly crisp. Unless it’s a thick slice of challah, soaked in egg-and-cream and fried in butter, the best French toast on the planet. Or a piping hot bran muffin, or a muffin bursting with fresh blueberries, cut open when it’s so hot it’ll scorch your fingers, and a copious quantity of butter applied. Or a puffy, golden brown Dutch Baby, hot out of the oven.

I love breakfast breads, and I have a fair number of them in my repertoire. But I also have a kid with celiac disease, and I love her, too, so I try to cater toward her need for things that don’t have wheat gluten when she’s here. And, I’m sorry, but I’ve yet to find anything in the realm of gluten-free breads that worth a diddly-damn.

Fortunately, said child loves her some corn, in most all its iterations. Corn tortillas make a fine breakfast burrito, and do well scrambled up in some migas. And grits? This kid can eat her weight in grits. Always has been able to.

So this morning, I brought out one of my stable of gluten-free breakfasts, tweaked it a bit, and she gave it her seal of approval. Me, I’ll tweak it next time, but it wasn’t bad, not at all.

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Tortilla breakfast

November 12, 2017

OK, so it fell apart. It was good. Especially with oranges.

It’s been years since I made a tortilla, but I was in the notion for one recently, so I made it.

Child B is here, and she’s gluten intolerant, so I have to think a bit when it comes to breakfast goodies for her. I was contemplating latkes Friday morning, but that was more trouble than it was worth. And somebody had posted on the food forum about making a tortilla. And I thought, “Yeah. That.”

So I set about doing same. Truth be told, it was probably as much trouble as making latkes, but, hey, the flavor profile was what I wanted.

I peeled four potatoes, sliced them thin and boiled them in salted water for a few minutes, until they were barely soft. I drained them, and layered them in what started out as a nice spiral in the pan.

Which, by the way, was the 10-inch Lodge carbon steel skillet I bought back in May. Finally got those suckers seasoned. I love them. Get you some.

Layer 1, potatoes and proscuitto.

Anyway. I put a layer of potatoes, and then I added half of the proscuitto that I’d cut into strips. Put another layer of potatoes, and added some more proscuitto. I let them cook on medium heat until they’d started to brown on the bottom. Then I beat up four eggs with a little half in half, added in some paprika and a cup and a half or so of grated romano, and poured that over them.

Note to self. Use six eggs next time. Four was a bit skimpy.

Leave that skillet alone! Let those eggs cook!

The key at this point is to leave the damn skillet alone. Let the eggs cook, undisturbed, until they start to look set around the edges. Then, gently, push the edge of the tortilla¬† away from the edge of the pan, tilt the pan, and let the uncooked egg run into the gap. Do that all the way around the pan, and then leave it alone some more. You’re still on medium heat, here. It’s gonna take a LONG time to burn.

Once there’s no more liquid egg lingering around the surface, get a plate. Carefully slide your spatula under the tortilla to loosen it all over, then tilt the pan and slide it out onto the plate. Put a little more oil — not much — into the skillet. Invert the skillet over the plate, and, with hot pads in both hands, grab hold on each side and flip that sucker over. If all goes as it should, the uncooked side of the tortilla will wind up in the pan, and you’ll have a lovely browned surface looking at you.

Browned yum, right there. Would look better with more eggs.

Let that side cook for another 3-4 minutes, and slide it back out onto the plate. Let it cool for just a minute or two, and carve it into wedges. If I hadn’t been too skimpy on the eggs, it would have retained some structural integrity and made a nice wedge.

Like a quiche, these things are great an hour or two later, at room temp, so make it whenever you please. With some fruit and a muffin, it’s a pretty classy brunch. It ain’t a bad breakfast on its own.

When you ‘n y’mama ‘n ’em are in the notion for something different for breakfast, try this. There’s no reason you can’t customize it the way you want; change up the meat, change up the spice, add some onion or other veggies, change up the cheese. Just don’t skimp on the eggs.



bkfst pizza 0715

What was left of the breakfast pizza after four women and two kids filled up.

Got a throng in the house for breakfast? Fed people breakfast strata until you’re sick of breakfast strata? Tired of cycling batter through the waffle iron?

I give you the breakfast pizza.

This thing is just about guaranteed to please picky eaters, as long as they like sausage, eggs and cheese. (Who doesn’t? Few people I know.)

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December 27, 2016

M'mmm. Recycled breakfast. Sheer brilliance, if I did come up with it myownself.

M’mmm. Recycled breakfast. Sheer brilliance, if I did come up with it myownself.

Because, well, sometimes, you bring home carryout you just don’t want right then. And when you can recycle last night’s dinner into this morning’s breakfast, that’s a win any way you look at it.

Yesterday, after Child A and I made a pilgrimage to the nail salon for post-Christmas manicures and pedicures, she decided we were hungry. Now, I did not really think I was hungry, but by the time I got the 1,000 feet from the nail salon to the Steak Escape drive-through, I was hungry. And a cheesesteak sounds marginally healthier (not that I’m sure why) than do most fast food offerings. So I ordered a small steak, no peppers, on wheat bread.

And then I saw they had loaded baked potatoes, with bacon and cheese. OK, I needs me one of those. Got that, too.

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Lunch at home

August 24, 2016

A lunch that's damned hard to beat.

A lunch that’s damned hard to beat.

One of the good things about working from a home office, in addition to being able to cook things that take a long period of inactivity punctuated with periodic tasks, like breadbaking, or doing laundry, is that you get to rummage through the fridge for what can be a great lunch.

Like the one above. I mean, homemade pimiento cheese, bacon, and a backyard tomato, on homemade wheat bread. Just doesn’t get much better than that.

As an aside, one of the great things about being a Southerner is that you’re brought up with pimiento cheese. Not that nasty grocery store kind, either; the real, honest-to-god stuff with cayenne pepper in it that is the stuff of wonders. I need to get my gas grill bottle refilled so I can grill burgers with pimiento cheese on top, come to think of it.

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Here’s another check-mark in the “good” column about my (relatively) new home town of Jonesboro, Arkansas.

Its Community Foundation annual fundraiser is selling slabs of smoked Alaskan salmon.

Get yet smoked salmon, and help the community at the same time.

Get yet smoked salmon, and help the community at the same time.

As in, they procure whole bunches of salmon from somewhere — I say it’s Alaska, but I don’t know that for sure — and someone who is an aficionado of curing and smoking things cures and smokes it. Bunches of it. Large bunches of it. Hundreds of pounds of it. And they sell it.

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The day after photo. Probably looked better yesterday.

The day after photo. Probably looked better yesterday.

I was cooking dinner for a friend Sunday afternoon, and happened upon a gluten-free version of a favorite dessert that’s been featured on this blog, but not made in a while.

I had taken advantage of the confluence of blueberry and strawberry season at the Farmers Market, and had both. I decided I wanted a dessert that featured both, indeed celebrated both.

So I decided on a blueberry clafouti, topped with strawberries and whipped cream. It became gluten free, a fact I did not realize until this evening, when I dished up a leftover serving of it, when I inadvertently forgot the flour.

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