I just spent five minutes trying to figure out if ‘simplest’ is really, truly a word and you’ll be happy to know that it is! Anywho, I’ve been house sitting for my parents this weekend, and one of the benefits of doing this (aside from getting to steal household items such as toilet paper and loose leaf tea — I literally have a list on a post-it right now) is getting to raid the refrigerator and use things I normally don’t have in my own kitchen.
Greetings. Since my room is approximately 500 degrees right now, there’s a slim to zero percent chance that I’ll be able to sleep any time soon, so let’s talk about banana bread! And s’mores! And what happens when you have frozen bananas and leftover s’mores supplies! Here’s a hint: look down.
I feel like I stepped off of a time machine when I exited the plane after our flight home from Maui on Wednesday night. I entered the contraption on the island at noon with sun and birds all around me, stepping off several hours of awkward sleep later to darkness and the familiar smell of Seattle’s Fall.
I’m certainly not complaining, though, because now the two worlds are colliding in the form of pumpkin and macadamia nuts, a slight tan and scarves, a serious cleanse and just-as-serious binge watching of Sister Wives.
I’m all about these breakfast bakes. There’s just so much flexibility that you can’t go wrong, unless, of course, it’s early and you start throwing in M&M’s or spooning raspberry jam into the mix. Early hours can have that affect on a person. I used a wild/sprouted rice and quinoa blend, arugula, smoked salmon and a plethora of herbs to create this ideal throw-it-together-and-let-it-bake-while-you-get-ready breakfast.
You may remember back in the day, I posted this recipe for mini fritattas. This bake is similar in that it is great for an on-the-go breakfast that can be prepped Sunday night for the week! It’s always such a daunting task – assembling breakfasts for the week – on a Sunday evening, but when it comes down to it, avoiding morphing into a hangry monster first thing Monday morning for all of your coworkers to enjoy is worth it. Do it for the poor souls with whom you share a cubicle wall.
Figs are an acquired taste/texture. One that I acquired after spending a week last Summer posted under my cousin Monica’s fig tree, working real hard at wiping it clean. While figs from a Trader Joe’s in Seattle labeled “California Figs” are NOT the same as figs from a tree above your head in the Golden State, I’m trying to make it work. In doing so, I’ve been looking into all the ways I can consume them. Exhibit A: ROASTED!