That's right. In my excitement of getting the apartment all nice and cozy for us, I forgot that we didn't have much food in our pantry or in the refridge -- just some odds and ends. When we both decided that we were hungry enough to eat, I walking into the kitchen and started to scrounge.
Frozen chicken? Freezer burnt. PB&J? No J, no thank you. But eggs -- we had eggs! And goat cheese! And two gigantic beautiful portobello mushrooms that somehow hadn't gone bad yet. We decided upon breakfast for dinner, and when I said to Grey, "Do you want me to make it?" he looked at me and sweetly said, "Honey -- you know that I am the Egg Master."
Let me tell you -- he's right. I make breakfast a lot of the time; but he is always, always, always in charge of the eggs. He's just great at it -- they taste better than the restaurant-egg variety every time -- no joke. So while he started on the eggs, I chopped up the mushrooms and then threw them in a pan of browning butter and garlic powder.
Our goal was to have the mushrooms mixed in with the eggs, but it turned out even better -- they became a delicious side dish, one in which we could decide our perfect egg-to-mushroom ratio on our own.
We ate at our dining room table which was covered with magazine tear sheets for a project I am tackling today, but it was delicious nonetheless.
And what would a breakfast-for-dinner scenario be without cozy mismatched pajamas to simply add to the relaxed feel of the meal?
That's right -- now you know something about me. I don't match my jammies. Sorry, we're keepin' it real here.