I do it quite often. It’s because I get bored, after a while, with the more conventional choices. Or because I start craving a different kind of comfort food. You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?
Flipping things around. Having breakfast for dinner.
Savoury sausages, cooked just long enough to have a crust on the outside. So they ‘snap’ when you bite into them. Chorizo’s my favourite. Soft, fluffy scrambled eggs. I do make THE best scrambled eggs, by the way. Just because I like you, I’ll share my secrets:
Add some cream or milk to the eggs. Don’t add the salt or pepper until they’re finished cooking. DON’T beat them. Whisk them. And DON’t over whisk. Unsalted butter is best. Melt the butter, in the skillet, over a high heat. But then immediately reduce it to a VERY low flame once you put the eggs in.
The idea is to cook them GENTLY. So they are not overcooked. So they are creamy. And soft. And light. And fluffy. Then add whatever seasoning you want. And eat them IMMEDIATELY. Don’t let them just sit there,
waiting for you. They will harden, and get dry.
Not that you asked, but I like them with a few snips of fresh chives tossed on top.
Must also have home fries. Another one of my specialties. Sliced tomatoes, when they’re in season, and don’t taste like wood shavings. A nice, buttery croissant; and some really good marmalade. Or fabulous bread, toasted. Sourdough, maybe?
Damn! Now I don’t want the tilapia I was planning on having for dinner tonight.
But I should really get back to what I had for dinner last night. It was breakfast, but it wasn’t eggs. They were just an ingredient, not the main attraction. Last night was french toast and crispy bacon. Hit the spot.
Just in case you’re about to leap to the wrong conclusion, my french toast did not come out of a box, all ready to go into the toaster. Mine was made from scratch. Not that it’s very difficult. It’s not like there were hours of prep time or anything. Or half a day of cooking. I wasn’t making duck confit. Just french toast. But man, was it good.
When I really want to get fancy, I sometimes add vanilla to the eggs. And cinnamon or nutmeg. Or both. On occasion I’ve even been known to add some Grand Marnier. And caramelize pecans to use as a garnish. Not this time, though. I just wanted good, old-fashioned, plain french toast. But where I draw the line is, the bread has to be high quality.
Last night I used brioche. Big, thick slices. It does make lovely french toast, because it’s not dense. It’s light. Airy. And so is the finished product. And again, the key is, cook it over a medium low flame. You want it to cook slowly, and turn golden brown. Not all charred and burned. I didn’t even sprinkle powdered sugar on it. Just served it with pure Vermont maple syrup. The real deal. And bacon, of course. Crispy.
Which I cook under the broiler. After years of dealing with hot, spattered bacon fat burning my hands and my face and just making a royal mess on the stove top and even the walls, I finally got fed up.
A couple of minutes on each side and you’re done. No fuss. No muss. I line the bottom of the broiling pan with tin foil, so that’s even a breeze. It collects all the drippings; and I just have to roll it up and throw it away. All you have to clean is the top. No big deal.
Mmmmm …. Mmmmm …. it was good.
So tell me. What’s the difference if I like eating my breakfast at dinner time? Especially as I’ve been known to eat cold, leftover pizza for breakfast.