Breakfast for Supper, because I’m just. That. Far. Behind.
Well little spuds, it seems as if we’ve survived another week! The highlights of last week include but are not limited to :
1) Diary of a Gimpy Kid – see last week’s post about Sister Sparkles and her broken ankle
2) A wicked flare up of my super awesome (NOT!) rheumatoid arthritis that left me looking like I had lobster claws for hands most of the week
3) A less than stellar pecan harvest with nothing but a gimpy kid and some lobster claws to pick and shell them rotten pecans (did I mention we live in a pecan grove?)
4) Last, but absolutely worth mentioning, a “Mom and Me” Cub Scout camp out with Brother Bear during which a storm large enough to misplace farmhouses in Kansas moved through in the middle of the night scaring (or scarring would be more appropriate) cub scouts and mommies alike. Thanks goodness we had good company and one mom among us had this uncanny “Spidey-Storm-Sense” and alerted us to the impending danger in enough time to pack up and head out without even getting our Wellington’s wet.
Suffice it to say… after spending Sunday unpacking from the mayhem and getting Sister Sparkles and Brother Bear ready for school pictures Monday, the Tater is Slap-Dap-Worn-Out-To-The-Nth-Degree.
Monday was met with quite a bit of laundry, errand running, etc. You know, the stuff every soccer mom’s dreams are made of. I finally got a handle on things and began to feel a little more normal again, when I heard the phrase “MAHM……… MAAAAAAHM…… WHAT’S FOR DINNER?”
Holy crap Batman! It’s 7 pm, and the natives are so hungry they are foaming at the mouth! This will not do! No one has ever starved in my presence! So, I put on my TPM Supermom cape and set off to make something out of nothing much at all. I call this lil’ magic trick…
“Breakfast for Supper”
1 lb breakfast sausage (I’ve used pork and venison in this recipe, both work famously)
8 to 10 eggs here chickie chickie…..
8-10 tbsp of milk
2 tsp onion powder
2 tsp garlic powder
A coupla dashes of good old, hair-on-your-chest-Lousiana Tabasco sauce , man-up and get the good stuff.
We Tater Peelers DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES settle for off-brand hot sauce or worse….. Yankee hot sauce!
1 cup of your favorite picante sauce , or if you are ambitious you could always use homemade salsa but now is not the time for adventure.. leave that hippie peach, mango fruity salsa on the shelf for this one…… trust the Tater.
2 cups fresh spinach
2 cups sharp cheddar cheese grated (I’ve also used Monterrey Jack)
Brown breakfast sausage drain and set aside.
in a 9×13 casserole dish spread salsa evenly over the bottom.
Sprinkle browned and drained sausage over salsa
Sprinkle spinach on top of that
Sprinkle cheese on top of that
Meanwhile back at the ranch….. (in a large mixing bowl)
Crack eggs into mixing bowl, add milk, onion powder, garlic powder, NON-YANKEE, NAME BRAND hot sauce and whisk until combined just as you would for scrambled eggs.
Pour your fabulous and snobby southern egg mixture over your cheese, spinach, sausage,salsa layers.
Bake on 350* until eggs are set. Now if you’ve never baked eggs before, please note: you do not want jiggly eggs. In short, if you jiggle the pan and it looks like granny without her spandex.. put it back in the oven for crimeny’s sake before you put someone’s eye out! It usually takes about 35 min.
For your drooling pleasure, here’s a photo of the final goodness:
And (as always) the verdict…
Brother Bear : We told him the sausage was chicken … he will never know the difference. Muah ahhh ahhh aahhhhh!
Sister Sparkles: She went on and on and on thanking me for remembering to finally feed her, “and oh btw mom… it was super yummy.”
Daddy Long Legs: He had secondsies and proceeded to hide what was left to take for lunch tomorrow ( no joke… I still can’t find where he put it.)
Uncle Prime (you remember him from last week….. he digs Transformers): “Aaaaaahhhh,” now his reaction is why I do what I do! He had thirdsies , grunted a lot, sighed more, and actually held his plate up to his pie-hole and shoveled in the last nano-bite.
I’d say that went over well to spite the fact that it came together way after the dinner bell normally rings around here. Why, I’ll bet I looked like a cat coverin’ turds on a frozen pond in my hovel of a kitchen trying to put it together before everyone gave up and went to the dadgum Dairy Queen.
Keep it Spudly,
Tater Peelin’ Mama
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