A Bloody Good Brunch
I’m going to go out on a limb and say that most people enjoy going to brunch, but at times have been a little too out of sorts to really enjoy it due to a previous night of imbibing. I love brunch, that mystical meal that combines the glories of both breakfast and lunch. Is it going to be a French toast kind of day or shall it be Eggs Benedict? Or should I just throw caution to the wind and get a big-ass, greasy cheeseburger? Whatever the choice, the evening before has helped determine your decision. Brunch is both mine and Kelly’s favorite meal to cook, so we rarely go out. When we do, it’s usually because we have neither the energy nor the desire to destroy the kitchen. I mean when we start cooking in the morning it soon looks like a bomb went off. There are dirty pans everywhere, the waffle iron is spewing globs of batter, mixing bowls in the sink, a sheet pan of bacon grease teetering on an unstable surface, while both the espresso machine and the French press have been wor...