I have a love/hate relationship with breakfast.
I love breakfast food …for dinner… I just hate to cook it for breakfast. And I want to eat breakfast… I just don’t want to cook it.
Largely because it would involve getting up earlier in the mornings, which is darn near impossible for me, ESPECIALLY now that I’m a single, working mom and have enough to do to get the three of us ready and out the door in the mornings.
The desire of my heart would be to feed my kids steel-cut oats with cinnamon and raw honey and a side of fresh-squeezed organic juice for breakfast… though I do wonder if it would really kill them if I flung them a can of Slim Fast with a straw as we’re flying out the door for them to gulp in the car on the way to school because it would shave fifteen minutes off of our frenzied, chaotic getting-ready routine in the mornings….
We settle for cereal most days…at least its usually healthy cereal, not the junky stuff.
I love cereal.
My girls, however, think a Cooked Breakfast is their Love Language. Well, at least that’s how Katie feels; Annie would love nothing more than to eat Deep-Fried Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs six meals per day, if there were such a thing.
When Katie’s Christmas list included a sentence asking Santa if mom could please start cooking breakfast in the mornings, I decided that was Guilt Trip enough to start trying. So I try, but I reserve the right to feed them cereal at least two mornings a week.
So this is one of my attempts at an easy, cooked breakfast; nothing fancy (nor healthy :-/), and I wouldn’t feed them this every day, but it made my kids happy, and sometimes that’s enough.
Start with junky canned biscuits, the kind with no nutritional value whatsoever, and plop them on your Pampered Chef Pizza Stone.
I had some breakfast sausage, already browned and crumbled, leftover from Breakfast Tacos I had cooked the night before, so we topped our biscuits with sausage, scrambled eggs, and grated cheese, and cooked them 10 or 11 minutes (whatever time and temperature it said on the biscuit can).
I’m all about cooking once and feeding them twice (but only because I can’t, in good conscience, feed them Slim Fast).
And you can run and tell that to Santa Claus.