The only time I eat breakfast is on the weekends. I know that’s bad. Breakfast is allegedly the most important meal of the day. However, until I’ve had a cup of tea, food isn’t something I can think about. Literally. Because I can’t think at all. The idea of breakfast doesn’t occur to me until I’m at work, and by then it’s halfway to lunch anyway, so I just wait it out.
But on the weekend, I am all over breakfast. Maybe because I can call it brunch? I’m not sure. All I know is that I have this awesome waffle maker that makes waffles in the shapes of circus characters. Amazing, right? I use it all the time. Plus, you only get maple syrup at breakfast/brunch.
No, maple syrup and clown waffles are not involved in this post. Next time.
This weekend, I made the perfect breakfast sandwich: a fried egg topped with sautéed shallots, garlic and orange sweet peppers and served with spinach and herbed goat cheese, all on a cracked whole wheat bun. Yuuuuuuuuuuuummy.
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