If you’ve checked out my Facebook page, you already know I’ve got a thing for Sunday breakfast.  You’d also know what I cooked this week, and that I sliced half of my thumb off with my mandoline over the weekend.  See what you’re missing?!

But I digress.  Let’s get back to breakfast.

Six days of the week, I eat plain ole eggs with toast for breakfast, and I’m more than ok with it.  But things change when Sunday rolls around.  That’s when I start to crave something special–maybe a breakfast burrito or home fries or a big fat Belgian waffle.  Despite this urge for decadence, nothing makes me happier than enjoying my lavish breakfast spread from the comfort of my pj’s, in my own house, sipping my own coffee.