Recipe: Don’s Egg Cups

Finished egg cups

You’ve all heard breakfast is probably the most important meal of the day, but knowing that doesn’t mean you have the time or energy to make yourself a hot delicious breakfast every single day. (I mean, honestly. That’s a lot of days.) Don used to cook a breakfast casserole on the weekend that he’d portion out for his work week, but it was only okay. He didn’t love it, didn’t make it that often. But he wanted to!

Also there’s a Law & Order reference in here, which we’ll get to in a minute.

At his request, I took over the casserole cooking and made a few changes. Don used to put frozen hashbrowns directly into the dish before cooking; I add them to the saute stage so they’re heated up and absorbing flavors earlier on. He cooked this in a 9″x13″ pan; I use a 6-cup jumbo muffin pan. (That way every portion has the yummy crispy edges.) I changed it from mild cheddar to sharp, added peppers and onions. Now he loves it, and I make it almost every week.

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Free Flash Fiction: “The Scent of Food is Memory and Love”

One of my favorites! Originally posted on my website in March, 2017.

The Scent of Food is Memory and Love

Azedah took the leaves off of the last small, round eggplant, then cut through the dark purple flesh until she had turned it into a pile of thick slices. She added them to the others already simmering in olive oil in her largest frying pan, so wide it covered most of the cooktop on that side of the stove. When both sides were golden brown, she lifted the eggplant pieces out of the pan and put then aside to drain. Quickly, her fingers moving with long experience, she chopped a large yellow onion; the fine slices sizzled when they hit the hot oil left in the pan.

“Azedah,” the house said. “The visitors have arrived.”

“Ah, they are early! Is Yasmin out of the shower?”

“Yes. Yasmin is in the study,” the house replied.

Azedah stirred the onions with a worn wooden spatula, and the smell of their cooking spread across the large kitchen. “Ask Yasmine to greet our guests,” she said. Behind her, the pressure cooker beeped, its cycle finished. She tapped the “natural release” icon, and turned back to the stove.

She reached to her left – but her hand closed on empty air. Continue reading