sunday breakfast

Friends, I have to tell you I’ve been doing battle with breakfasts lately. You know I love a good Sunday breakfast, but after a night of imbibing the big kid juice, my stomach and I are feeling particularly finicky. We crave strong tea, in a cup, intravenously, whatever. The thought of anything more than toast with a thin swipe of avocado washed down with coconut water makes me want to lie down on the couch and take a nap of post-Thanksgiving proportions.

What I’ve been wanting for the longest time is scrambled eggs. Call it crazy-talk, but the way I see it, they sit much lighter than your standard fried egg. I never order them when dining out because they always looks so strangely measly on a plate, taste relatively bland, typically have the mouth-feel of pliable rubber and seem to leave a small puddle of water behind. Not so appetizing, hey?

So this Sunday, we had homemade scrambled eggs and they were undoubtedly more decadent than anything you’ll find at the corner diner or hotel restaurant.

Would you just look at how fluffy it is?!

The contents would give a lactose intolerant person nervous ticks, but hey, I’m going to tell you anyway. Ready? Sour cream, ricotta cheese, grated mozzarella and aged cheddar, chives, sage oil, heavy cream and a topping of shaved parmesan. Fried sage was supposed to make an appearance but I, ahem, I ate it all. I have a deep love for sage, but that wasn’t my brightest idea to date.

I’m not saying that every batch of scrambled eggs requires these ingredients, but what they do need is love. Eggs need not be whipped into submission, mes amis. So please, be gentle, be patient, and be ready for the best scrambled eggs you’ve ever had.

I leave you with this video, and all the best wishes for a good week ahead.

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