Peanut Butter and Jelly Pancakes. It all begins with peanut butter.
Don’t most things start with peanut butter? Lunches as a kid, first days of school, breakfast every morning… The Music Time Machine. Cake Batter Pancakes. I’m fairly convinced that the world would be a better place if more sprinkles were involved.
I know. I just made pancakes. It seems I have an unnatural obsession with cake batter. Well I do. Peanut Butter Pancakes. My husband’s 23rd birthday was yesterday, but as he’s all grown up now, he still had to go into work.
I figured that I’d brighten his morning a bit with two of his favorite things: peanut butter and pancakes. We woke up and while he showered and got ready for work, I whipped these up. It was quite easy and the result was fantastic. Crepes of Wrath ? Bacon Onion Cheddar Biscuits. These biscuits are hearty, sticky, substantial, and packed with all the goodness of life.
You can serve them with eggs in the morning, tomato soup for lunch, or meatloaf for dinner. And they’re so rich and satisfying, one is definitely more than enough. That’s why I went ahead and ate two. Sorry. Make-Ahead Muffin Melts. This is another recipe from my mother’s recipe collection.
It’s a make-ahead concoction meant to be spread on English muffins and broiled. And it’s just…it’s just… Creamy Cheese Grits with Chilies. I have a good, basic recipe for cheese grits in my cookbook, but last night I was feeling feisty.
I was cooking steaks. Big, fat, juicy rib-eye steaks with beautiful marbling and gorgeous color. I was definitely potatoed out; we’d had baked potatoes and smashed potatoes already this week. So I reached for the guh-ree-yuts and planned to whip up my old cookbook standby, which, by the way, is a delicious golden nugget of comfort food on earth. But instead of going the way of cheddar, I dumped in some chilies and a different kind of cheese, as well as a little cream cheese to give it a different texture. The Eggberts Sunriser. There was (and is, still) a restaurant in my hometown called Eggberts.
Eggberts opened when I was a pre-teen, I think, with a maximum of eight booths and a few seats at the bar, which was about two feet away from all the cooking. That was my favorite place to sit as a twelve-year-old, as I got to watch all the eggs being cracked, all the waffle batter being spooned into the waffle irons, all the gravy being ladled onto the biscuits. It was such a magical, wonderful place.