Thursday, July 9, 2009

breakfast for dinner

We had breakfast for dinner last night, and it was amazing!
The kids were so excited, you'd think Christmas had come early.
And, other than it being 100 degrees outside, it felt kind of like
Christmas. We had sweet rolls and coffee, orange juice and bacon,
eggs, sausage, and the most fabulous french toast. Yum!
On top of it all, a monsoon rolled in while we were cooking, bringing
heavy gray clouds, a nice little lightning storm, and huge drops of rain.


Laelia said...

That sounds (and looks) like it was heavenly!

Kelsea Nicole said...

Ooh I'm jealous. I love Seneca house food. Makes me glad I'm moving back soon, mmmm...:D

Rod Hugen said...

Wow. Major flashbacks. Dad disliked Italian or Mexican food. We grew up on the farm and he preferred bacon and eggs to what we called spaghetti (Chef Boy-R-Dee in a can) or tostadas (don't even ask). So when Mom would cook those things she would make some bacon and eggs for Dad. Not because he demanded it, but simply because she loved to make them for him, and knew his taste.

Us kids complained one time because breakfast for us was typically oatmeal and toast (on Sundays we had Cream of Wheat--"It's Cream of Wheat weather, we repeat. So guard your family with hot Cream of Wheat!). Mom said, "Okay, tomorrow night we'll have real breakfast for dinner."

True to her word, she made eggs and bacon and American fried potatoes fried in Crisco and bacon grease. We had toast and jelly and
Cream of Wheat with a bit of cinnamon for dessert. Breakfast for dinner became a part of our lives and I loved it. Maybe I'll fry up some bacon...

Thanks for the memories.


Susan Cepin said...

Laelia - the funny thing about those sweet rolls is that they came out looking better than they tasted. Not that they were bad, but the bread was very prominent. Next time I'll triple the butter and brown sugar for an icky, sticky mess!

Kelsea - Move back soon and ask for breakfast-for-dinner when you get here. We'll do it!

Rod - thanks for sharing your memories! I have warm thoughts of you and your family in a little farm kitchen, although this probably happened after you'd moved to Phoenix.