I took a couple days of vacation at the absolute worst time. I’ve been paying for it for the last week and a half, but it was worth it to spend some quality time with my husband. Yesterday was especially stressful, and I came home after working late wanting nothing more than my fuzzy slippers and some comfort food.
My craving probably wasn’t what you pictured, though. Many of my friends have chicken and noodles every time they feel blue. I like chicken and noodles just fine, but they’re never my first choice.
My comfort food is breakfast fare – eggs in particular. Omelets hold a special place in my heart because that was my dad’s specialty. He cooked them for all special occasions. He loaded them with vegetables, herbs, and meat. Whatever was in the refrigerator usually ended up in a cozy blanket of golden eggs. It was never the same meal twice because our pantry was ever changing.
Eggs are a great source of protein, economical, and quick to cook. I grew up on meals such as fried potatoes mixed with scrambled eggs and a side of toast (nobody fried potatoes like my mom), biscuits and gravy, bread and gravy when the bread needed to be used, country fried ham, fried eggs and bacon, waffles, and pancake surprise. The surprise was a dollop of Mom’s homemade jelly that was hidden somewhere within the pancake. My sister and I used to race to see who could find it first.
Mom always referred to our down-home breakfasts as “stick to your ribs” meals. The food gave us plenty of energy for the work that needed to be done during the day. Of course, we didn’t eat like that all the time. We would all have sky high cholesterol if that was the case. We ate fruits, vegetables, and lean meat, too. We enjoyed many meals that were entirely plant based. I remember many suppers made up of corn on the cob and vine ripened tomatoes fresh from the garden. It all depended on what was in season and what was still left from the previous harvest.
One of the things I love about my husband is that we can enjoy breakfast food together for any meal. We usually dine at family restaurants that serve breakfast all day when we go out, so he can have biscuits and gravy and I can get my omelet fix. It’s not quite the same as my childhood happy food, but it still makes me smile.
Last night, I dragged myself into my house feeling cold, miserable, and hungry. My very soul was bruised. I lumbered into my kitchen where I made a simple omelet with two ingredients – eggs and cheese. It was a far cry from the omelets Dad used to make, but I felt immediately better. I could almost hear his voice telling me to at least use some garlic and an onion, but I just didn’t have the energy.
You can keep the chicken and noodles, but please pass the eggs.
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