I had a bout of insomnia the other night that kept me up until the wee hours watching Robert Downey, Jr.’s triumphant arrival on Ally McBeal. (Netflix. Get it.) When I dragged my ass out of bed the next morning, I needed something to make life suck less. So I decided to make myself breakfast.
You all should probably know that I don’t usually make breakfast, beyond cereal. I don’t really like eggs, and bacon and sausage are too messy to cook. My inexperience was already working against me. Well, that and the fact that I am pretty much a flailing idiot in the kitchen. That, however, is not enough to stop a hungry recovering insomniac.
Eggs, I choose you! (Yeah, I know, I already mentioned I don’t really like eggs. My only defense is that I was really, really tired.)
Looks good, right? Yeah, I was fooled, too. These are called mini frittatas. I think mostly I just wanted to make them because the word “tata” is in there and that makes me laugh.
There were several problems that I can identify with my attempt at this recipe:
1. For toppings, I could only find pickle relish, banana peppers, and Mexican cheese. So I used them.
2. I am cooking spray impaired. No matter how much I spray muffin tins, stuff always sticks to them anyway. Always. I swear to God those muffin tins were fucking soaked.
3. Eggs are gross.
I really tried to like them. I even made two different kinds: with pickle relish and banana peppers, and without pickle relish and banana peppers. The ones with pickle relish and banana peppers tasted about like you’d imagine. The ones without tasted like a sponge with cheese on top.
The lesson here, I think, is that I should never attempt to cook breakfast, ever again. Yes. That’s it.
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