the stories
the kitchen
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the food porn
the recipes
the about
the drop me a line part
the resources
the full list
jewelry alchemy

soupapalooza!

the stories
the kitchen
the market
the proof (party pics!)
the food porn
the recipes
the about
the drop me a line part
the resources
the full list
jewelry alchemy

turkey sausage patty sliders: love is in a biscuit

Doing a breakfast-palooza was a no-brainer for me, though I do not eat breakfast with any regularity at all; mostly my days begin with at least three cups of espresso (thanks to Arash and his amazing gift of the Francis) and then some kind of lunch around 4pm. It's probably not the best way to set myself up for success nutritionally speaking, or as a practice of self-love, but it is what it is. When I do have breakfast or brunch it's nothing short of a celebration.

We didn't really eat breakfast when I was a kid, either. I remember that there were sugary cereals in the pantry for Saturday mornings when my mom would sleep in and my brother and I would get up early to watch cartoons (why, exactly, can I not get excited enough about anything to get me out of bed at 6am these days?), and there was the occasional pouch of instant grits that I would float a stick of butter on. And Mom would make bigfoot pancakes for us on very special occasions, the treatiest of all possible treats, when she would whip up bisquik in her bathrobe and, using a spoon and guiding the batter with her tiny little finger, add little drops that would form "toes" on the top of the browning-in-butter edges of the flap jacks. I always knew something great had happened when bigfoot pancakes would show up in the morning and I still can't help but get a little rush when I smell butter foaming in a pan.

I've said it before, but I think it bears repeating: food is a nostalgic experience. It's full of the details of our memory and emotions which is why it can sometimes be addictive. ​It is comfort, reward, celebration, and sometimes punishment. For me it's a connection to my family, to the narrative of my life, my parents' lives, my grandfather's stories...and breakfast is the very beginning and the base for everything during the day, which makes it unique.

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PostedFebruary 22, 2013
Authormelissa mcclure
Categoriesappetizers and snacks, breakfast
Tagsbreakfast-palooza!, breakfast for dinner, appetizer, turkey, sausage, turkey sausage patties, biscuits, papa, Texas, rancher cuisine, food is love, caring is sharing, coffee is morning soup, recipe
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my cup runneth over: not to be all off-topic, but what is coffee if not your morning soup?

There was a tragic turn of events last week. My beloved two dollar “hand-crafted-by-foreign-children-so-as-to-be-available-to-hoarding-americans-who-don’t-need-more-of-anything-for-two-dollars” coffee mug from Target was forever lost to this world because of soapy dish hands and an industrial sink. It was quite sad when it shattered, and I feared that my mornings were to be forever a little less happy. Not that I’m really ever all that happy before 8am. 

You see, I judge the quality of my day based on how much I enjoy my morning coffee, and that stupid mug made countless mornings just a tad brighter, mostly because it didn’t hold heat very well and I like my morning soup luke warm. I’m a weirdo, what can I say. Thank goodness for those tiny, inexpensive and uneducated factory hands and Lord Jesus bless that mug. 

R.I.P Cheap Ceramic Cup, provenance: Target on La Brea (2004-2010).

I thought my morning happiness was lost forever, or at the very least I might have to suck it up and drive the seven minutes it takes to get to Peet’s on Larchmont for the foreseeable future. But something happened to change the game completely. Something happened that would make all my mornings a little bit sunnier.

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PostedOctober 11, 2010
Authormelissa mcclure
Categoriesgear and miscellany
Tagsservewear, sausalito, Heath ceramics, coffee cups, child labor laws, dinnerwear, coffee is morning soup, vessels
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goldsmith, sometime costume designer and badass cat owner. 

goldsmith, sometime costume designer and badass cat owner. 

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Why? Because soup is cheap, delicious and easy. Kind of like me.

a weekly attempt to eat well and to savor life. or to see how much food I can get on my clothes.

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