The thirteenth installment of our breakfast advice column
Are you in a breakfast conundrum? Do you have deep-seated, unresolved feelings for brunch? Are you at a loss in front of the smorgasbord of life? Because so often breakfast is about feelings, and relationships teeter on the edge of the morning meal table, Extra Crispy editors Kat Kinsman (Bis-kat) and Margaret Eby (Bisc-gret) are here with the latest installment of Emergency Biscuits, our breakfast advice column, to dole out hopefully not half-baked counsel and recipes for life. Got a question for the Biscuits? Email email@example.com.
An egg-free breakfast sounds like heresy but it's surprisingly easy to achieve, even keeping things pretty casual. Don't despair: there's a whole world of brunch out there that doesn't touch eggs, at least not as the main feature of the dish. Try, for example, making biscuits and gravy. The last time I made Kelly Fields' biscuits for an out of town guest, they decided to stay another day, but obviously your mileage may vary. You can even skip the gravy part and serve them up warm with some breakfast meats or a fruit salad, or melt some cheese in them to make a breakfast-y grilled cheese.
You could also opt for some extremely crispy and delicious breakfast potatoes, served up with bacon, sausage, or just by themselves, honestly. If she doesn't object to eggs in the batter of something, just by themselves, you could attempt the classic, egg-free combination of fried chicken and waffles. (And if frying the chicken yourself is too serious an endeavor, you can always outsource that part, too.) And if all that seems like a bridge too far, just picking up bagels and lox and cream cheese is pretty great, and you could make the coffee at home. Plus, you know what cures all ills? A Bloody Mary. Go for it!
You’re not gonna screw this up, Dan. Why? Because you clearly give a damn—enough to find and write into a breakfast advice column—and damn-giving is, like 96 percent of the work in a relationship. (The other 4 percent is being tolerant of / pretending not to notice weird smells.) But you’re scared of looking like you give a damn, and I get it, Dan, I get it. You’re afraid that if you reach out to grasp this beautiful cotton candy dream in your hand, it’ll all just melt to strange, sticky goo. Not on our watch.
I’ll happily tell you what to make, but first I’m gonna grasp you by the shoulders, lock eyes with you, and make you swear to me that if you’re planning on, you know, toasting each other’s muffins, you knock that outta the way before you eat. That way you can actually enjoy the meal without having to worry about feeling sexy with a belly fulla grits sloshing around.
And yes, I’m gonna call it for grits. It’s snuggling smack dab in the center of the time limit you set yourself, and I believe with all my heart that making grits for someone is an act of love, whether or not they know it, or even if you don’t know it for yourself quite yet. It’s not expensive to make grits—even if you deck them out with butter, cheese, bacon, hot sauce, scallions, and shrimp—so you won’t look like you’re fussing too much, but it does take some whisking. And whisking. And whisking.
But that’s OK! If you took heed of that first part, you’re both loosey-goosey and in a happy, glowing mood. Pour glasses of bubbly for both of you, maybe ask her to pitch in and grate the cheese while you stir, and just have a great time making a meal together. May there be many more to follow.