I was awakened around 5:45am on Sunday morning with a hankering for brunch. In the old days, before kids, I’d have gotten out of bed at 11am, rolled out of my front door in Manhattan, and met a friend for an omelette and a mimosa.
Hardy har.
Instead, I found myself sitting in bed in front of an episode of Curious George, while my husband blearily suffered through yet another round of my boys fighting over his attentions. Being chopped liver, myself, I was on my own side of the bed…pondering how I could salvage this morning. Cormac turned and burped at me, laughing.
I wanted eggs. Unfortunately, Cormac had gone on an egg binge the day before. There were only four left, and I knew it wasn’t going to be enough for all of us. But four eggs was a good place to start. I began to think about what other odds and ends were in my fridge, that I could use to supplement the main feature.
The Frazzled Foodie 