Apparently, 'Just Right' is going to be everything I make. Not just 'Simple, vegetable and protein-based meals' as I bullshitted a few months back, but everything. Everything I make that I document with my iPhone instead of my camera, because my iPhone is my camera.
"Look at you. Look at that bun. No wonder no one is asking you to dance."
Hey, guys. What have you been up to? I've been busy buying new sweatpants and realizing that I should have undertaken that luxury years ago. Enjoying rush hour, bright days, confusing nights. Identifying with Top 40 Radio hits, to the point where my neighboring drivers might look to their right and see a creature bumping her chest with one hand, chin jutted out, nodding fiercely. Playing chicken with a giant shank of pork left alone in the oven overnight, at a low, humming temperature, like some weird culinary version of "Mommy just needs to run into the post office!" for the new generation.
This picture shows up, again, unaltered, a few paragraphs down. I'm not ashamed. Hide in the basement. The Locusts are near.
Carl doesn't have a favorite child. He'd never admit to one, not out loud. If you asked him that question in a public space, he'd take you down to your knees, make you cry out the names of those you've wronged, then help you up like the Top-hat and Tails Gentleman he is.
But in his Will, these biscuits are named directly.
I don't eat a lot of fast food, for all the reasons, but when I do, I stick to some solid favorites. Marshmallow malts from Dairy Queen on summer evenings, Turkey Burger with bacon and cheddar from Burgerville late at night, raw dumpster meat from Jack in the Box as the sun rises and from McDonalds, a sausage biscuit, hash browns and orange juice on road trips that require an early start. Nothing beats that, and one of my favorite memories is sitting in the parking lot, shoved into a friend's car after staying up all night and watching the morning turn grey, laps full of greasy food.
The above was born from a craving for that exact meal, only with some alterations - turkey sausage (homemade, so easy and having nothing to do with casings), sweet potatoes instead of white (though I wanted to use Yukon Golds, and plan to next time) and some toppings which steer this past breakfast and into Big Brunch territory. It is still delicious though, and you're free to flip a fried egg on top, too. Or, go traditional.
First up, the recipe for the sausage biscuits. We'll go for the sweet potato patties next, and then the ketchup. It all comes together in a nice bundle, sans paper sleeves and wrapping, but still solid tastiness. You might have to eat this at a table, with a knife and fork, but your friends are still invited and you can stay up all night if you want to.
I suggest eating this while watching MTV's Teen Cribs on a Saturday morning. They cancel each other out.
Before anything else - the above is the second entry in the 'Full' category. A buttermilk biscuit with homemade turkey sausage, white cheddar and caramelized onions. And on the drums, sweet potato hash patties and maple-cider ketchup. Thank you, Spokane! We are Late Breakfast!
You can do this. You should do it. Do it on a day you want to comfort yourself, or someone close to you. Don't do it the day before you have to see him, her, them or it for the first time since whatever went down. Just take my advice on that one.
But how are you? How is spring treating you? Have you started seeds yet? I remembered to start mine a full week or two later than last year, but they're up and sprouting their first set of real leaves. Teeth should be next. I'll talk more about that soon. Have you, like me, finally purchased a 'Boyfriend' cardigan five decades after everyone else? Let me tell you, worth it. If you like things long, they're perfect. I'm someone who can often wear capris or crops as regular pants, but I have a long torso. So I really love long tops and shirts, sweaters and cardigans. I've just gone into mad detail about my personal length issues, I apologize. OLD NAVY has them for like two bucks and whatever receipts you have in your pockets. Buy them, enjoy them.
Are you busting out of the woodwork, listening to new music, trying Yoga for the first time (INHALE on Oxygen at 6 am. So far, I'm still able to walk so I guess it is legit), painting your face with Satan's Trollop Pigments? Let me know about it. Right now I can't get enough of The Noisettes and Mayer Hawthorne, mustard of all kinds, Sephora's Mr. Lover lipstick and Pacifica's Blood Orange solid perfume. All of that is calming me down.
Recipes to come. I hope all is good. If it isn't, shout it out. We'll form a gang.