I told you previously that on Sunday morning, The Captain makes breakfast. And how it makes me smile while I eat my bacon sandwiches.
But when I decide to make Sunday morning breakfast, they’re faces light up.
My Dad was famous in our family for his Sunday morning breakfasts.
We would wake up to the smell of bacon or sausage frying.
My kids didn’t sleep in late on Sunday morning. They knew if they were up early enough they would get to help make biscuits.
He always made fried taters. His were my favorite. And I have not been able to duplicate them yet.
We would starve while everything cooked. Sitting in the kitchen chatting or pacing the floor, waiting.
But when we sat down to a plate of bacon, biscuits, scrambled eggs, fried taters and homemade gravy it was pure heaven!
Not the healthiest, I know. But it was my favorite meal. Everyone loves my Sunday breakfasts. But it doesn’t even compare to the ones my Dad made. It’s the kind that sticks to your ribs.
If I can keep getting those fresh eggs, like I got at Cherry Place Farm. I might be inclined to make Sunday breakfast more often.
I wonder why some eggs have spots and some don’t? And how do they get there? On second thought, I don’t wanna know!
Do you have good memories of Sunday morning breakfasts?