2 favorite breakfasts

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I think I’ve had a serious case of writer’s block lately, but there has been so much holiday merriment and other distractions that this space is often the first to get neglected. We got through the flurry of Christmas but it felt emotionally/mentally like a snowstorm. Lots of travelling, family, niece and nephew play times, late night Star Wars screenings, nights spent not in my bed (first world problems, I know), trips to the local bakery, eating all the food, and some really lovely conversations with family. Christmas with our loved ones was fun and sweet, but it was in a large concentrated dose over a small period of time that left my head feeling fuzzy and reaching for the 4th and unfortunately 5th cup of coffee, daily. Physically, our holiday was the exact opposite of a snowstorm with highs in the 80s! and lots of short sleeves and blooming roses (see above) and air conditioning. Such is life in the deep south, I suppose.

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Breakfast #1

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spinach and bacon pie

baked.

baked.

So sometimes feeding yourself consists of putting enough fuel in your body so that moving is still an option on the table. This generally means that there will be lots of coffee, and meal time is quick and to the point. Sometimes that means you eat frozen pizza twice in one week. Last week was kind of like that, we rotated between salad with grilled chicken one night then frozen pizza the next. And repeat.

Sunday was finally a day when I had enough energy/time to get in the kitchen and actually make some things happen that required more attention than dump and stir. And what happened was a spinach pie with a bacon lattice top.

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you remind me of home / make your own mayonnaise / be a kitchen nerd

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When I think about mayonnaise, I think about my childhood. My dad would (still?) smear a generous spoonful on a slice of white bread and top it with a fat piece of ripened tomato. As a child too old for such things, I would stick my index finger in a tub of mayo and lick it clean as if it were brownie batter. I consumed over the years what (I’m sure) has added up to be gallons of mayonnaise laden tuna salad, still a staple at my parents house. My Gran-Gran would make burgers in her tiny kitchen on top of the smallest, greasiest fire-hazard of a gas stove and somehow, mayonnaise seemed to be the main ingredient. I have no idea if she made the condiment herself or bought it at the store, but the pieces of beef were just the things in between the web of mayonnaise. She would serve them on one of those white, store bought buns with a thick piece of tomato (tomato for her, none for me) and it was bizarrely delicious. The beef was charred and a bit caramelized, the mayonnaise adding a burst of tanginess that kept the burger juicy and flavorful. I still do not understand the feat of culinary chemistry that was the mayonnaise burger, but it lives in infamy with all the colorful memories of my grandmother.

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