Bachelor Breakfast: Whip it out and bang it on the counter!

Last week, while traveling through Greene County for some last-minute fall foliage photos, I saw this little local meat market / butcherie.  Now if you know me, you know that I am a sucker for regional products.  One right turn and a quick parking job later, I was in the meat market, looking at the store’s wares.

I wasn’t ready to experience the meat market’s exotic foods – apparently they sell farm-raised venison, as well as buffalo and the like – but I did pick up some fresh sausages and a dozen range-free eggs.

And after driving back to my apartment, I decided to make a little bachelor breakfast.

Now “bachelor breakfast,” if you’re not familiar with the terminology, is when you cobble together various delicacies in a pan or in the oven.  You add whatever salts or spices suit your fancy, and you don’t care about making enough for anybody else because, hey, you don’t have to share with yourself.

Frying pan with about two tablespoons of salted butter.  Oh yeah, the salted butter came from an Amish grocery store in Fort Plain some time ago.  Salted butter is delicious.  Trust me on this.

I sliced up the sausage and fried the pieces in the pan.  A few minutes later, the sausages went from frying pan to plate.  And not wasting any of the sausage-salted-butter in the pan, I cracked open two of the range-free eggs and fried them in the grease.  Nice and crispy, just the way Grandma Betty used to make them for me when I was a kid.

And then… when I was sure that the eggs were perfectly fried (for me), they went to the plate as well.

Bachelor sausage and eggs.


Don’t that look tasty?  This is the kind of meal Rachael Ray would make, amirite?

So I’m going to need some starch to go with this little cholesterol bullet.

Normally I could drive over to Stewart’s or Dunkin’ Donuts or Bruegger’s and get some bagels or donuts or both.

Nah.  Not this time.

I’ve got an oven in this apartment.  Time to use it.

See, the other day I got up the nerve to purchase something called Pillsbury Grands Biscuits.  The idea is that you can open up this can, put it in the oven, and 13 to 17 minutes later, you have biscuits.  And they come in these little cardboard tubes.  All I need to do is bang the tube on the counter to open the can, and bake from there.

Well damn that sounds easy.  Easy enough for me.

Let’s see… Here’s a can of biscuits.  Butter flavored.  Hmm.

And here’s a counter.


Can didn’t open.  Try again, Miller.


Damn.  Oh, the directions say you have to apply pressure on the can’s spiral seam.

Hell with that.  One more try on the counter and –


Oh look.  Little pats of doughy biscuits dough.

13 to 17 minutes later, and …

Look at all that doughy fluffy goodness. Home made and from scratch.  And by “scratch” I mean I probably scratched my countertop from banging the can on it; and by “home made” I mean that I cooked these biscuits in my oven, which is in my home, so technically I “home made” them.

Meanwhile, I can imagine every foodie in the blogisphere is laughing their collective tuchus off at this.  “Wow, Chuck Miller figured out how to bake biscuits from a can.  Whoop dee doo.  Any child can do that.  What’s next, you gonna figure out how to make cupcakes with an Easy-Bake Oven?”

I dunno.  First I’d need to acquire an Easy-Bake Oven, wouldn’t I?  That, and an old-fashioned light bulb, since those compact florescent bulbs aren’t strong enough to cook water to a lukewarm temperature.

No, really this is just a blog post to show that you’re really not limited to what you can make for breakfast.  A bowl of cereal, some pancakes, maybe some hash browns, etc.  And if you step out of your normal comfort zone, you can take that first step into making more elaborate meals.

That, and bachelor breakfast is okay.  You don’t need to worry about people judging you for what you eat.

They’re not cooking your breakfast for you, so they don’t get an opinion or a choice.

And they don’t get to judge you.

That’s the most important thing about bachelor breakfast.

Nobody gets to judge you for it.