breakfast lament

I'm not complaining about today, mind you. I had a nice lazy day, the kind of day that, when I'm a parent, I'll look back upon with longing, or perhaps chuckle at the free time spent doing absolutely nothing. (Not to rub it in or anything, but the only thing I accomplished was ordering groceries, which we do online. I did read a book and watch two episodes of the documentary on the Presidents, that should count for something).

Today I managed to nearly ruin breakfast all together. I was trying this recipe where the bread and eggs are cooked together. Only, apparently I can't eyeball 1/8 of an inch when it comes to rolling out dough, and I guess my silicone muffin pan wasn't as deep as the metal one shown in the recipe, or perhaps evil kitchen sprites wiggled their way into the kitchen, I suppose either is possible. I wasn't able to put the cheese under the eggs, so I just put some on the top as shown, except I put too much and some of it melted and mingled with escaped egg whites and burned cooked very quickly or drizzled into empty muffin spots.

When the timer first went off, nothing was near done. So I set the timer for a few more minutes. When I checked again, I saw that one of the egg's whites had broken free of the dough and was near to spilling over into the oven. So I decided to turn the muffin pan so that the offending egg drippings would fall on to the boiler pan rather than the oven. In the process I managed to give myself quite an annoying burn on the back of my hand.

The only thing really eatable about the whole thing was the egg. Most of the bread was still partially uncooked. I could see how it would be good if everything had worked out, so I'll try again down the line. My wonderful loving husband, who has requested that I not refer to him as loving husband because it dehumanizes him or something like that, well, he ate most of it, and encouraged me to try again. He's so sweet.

I also nearly caused a small disaster at lunch. I didn't expect the boiling water to flow over the pot when I added seasonings...but it did, and promptly smothered out the gas-fed flame, but not the gas. I might have stared at this sudden change of events for two seconds before turning off the gas. Not long enough for any gas to have lingered, thankfully, because I unthinkingly turned on a different burner and set the pot to simmer for our soup. Needless to say, my stomach was empty and so was my head.

When my husband reads this, he'll be less than amused. But to that I say, I made dinner without any incident, and cleaned up since you weren't feeling well.