No, this isn’t a recipe; it’s sheer madness. For some strange reason, the Crankee Yankee and I woke up around 1:30am or so the other night. We started talking, which attracted the cats, who thought that it was time to eat if the humans were up.
Then I remembered the two packages of bacon in the refrigerater, and we looked at each other and said, “PANCAKES AND BACON!” Since we don’t use maple syrup, we have maple agave, but there was only about a fourth of it left. Then I remembered the blueberry compote I had bought at Stonewall Kitchen (and also the sour cherry one as well).
We do have tons of blueberries in the big freezer downstairs, but it was too much bother to go dig them out. So, with all five cats circling our legs and inhaling the bacon fumes, we got all the bacon cooked and ready to go.
We decided that pancakes were too much work, so we decided on french toast. That’s all I really remember, because all of a sudden, I woke up on the couch with at least one cat drooling on me. The others were sleeping in the bed with the Crankee Yankee.
Once the cats were fed, the Crankee Yankee made some heavenly french toast, and enjoyed it with the bacon. Besides, who says you have to wait to fix bacon in the late morning, anyway?
It was just one of those crazy nights where the kitchen was filled with the heavenly sent of bacon at a crazy time of night, everyone was up and no one complained (as if I would ever complain about bacon!).
And when you think about it, it’s just one of those magic times when rules do not apply, when you know that you can get right back into bed if you want to, and when you just don’t give a hoot about ironclad meal times.
Sometimes sheer madness tastes the best.