I know this blog is usually all chard and smoothies and vegan desserts, but this weekend marks a special occasion: Father’s Day. And my dad is not about the chard. He is a man about a breakfast sandwich. An eggy, cheesy, greasy breakfast sandwich. So get out your spicy pork sausage and let’s do this.
My dad’s name is Dan. He is 6’4″, strong, an avid reader and history buff. He’s handsome, though I’m quite biased.
He likes to hunt, fish, watch war flicks, go on walks, and build things with his hands. He is a manly man if I ever knew one. He also aspires to attain a bear rug at some point in his life. Not bought, won, with pure grit. That’s the kind of man he is. He also likes pork sausage, but we’re getting to that.
I’m named after him, well, almost. I was supposed to be Daniel Raymond but then I up and came out a girl so Dana Rae it was. I was born on a rainy day. My dad timidly held me in his hands as he watched me turn “purple to blue to pink.” That’s what he writes in most of my birthday cards, the last several of which have left me weeping big, sloppy, joy-filled crocodile tears. John has to look away and pretend I’m not reverting back into a 12-year-old little girl crumbling under the rain of her father’s sappy-sweet affection. I don’t care. I love it, and I’m OK if that feeling never ends.
My dad has taught me many things in my 26 years of life.
To not procrastinate. How to properly shoot a gun. How to ride a bike when I was 5 years old on the red dirt track at the school near our house. To not close my eyes when catching a pop fly. It only took me one black eye to learn that lesson.
He’s taken me fishing and hunting and to sports games. He’s let me paint my room baby blue when the rest of the house was all man – burnt orange, dark green and tan. Practically a camo shrine if not for my sky blue travesty. But he didn’t mind, and I loved that.
He’s been my coach, my advocate, my protector, my counselor, and my friend. I still like giving him big bear hugs when I see him and a kiss on the cheek before hopping out of his dusty work truck after he picks me up for lunch. He’s been sweet and kind and I’m thankful.
Another thing my dad taught me was to make a killer breakfast sandwich. Butter and toast your bagel, preferably in the toaster oven because it gives it a nice crisp. Fry up your sausage – we usually had elk sausage around from all of his hunting adventures, but pork will do, too, especially right after hog season in Texas. Then fry up your egg: salt and pepper and once it’s flipped, kill the heat and add your cheese. This will yield the perfect drippy yolk and gooey melty cheese. The man was meticulous and for a good cause.
He taught me how to make a breakfast sandwich that would make your mom cry and you ashamed of your #4 with a hash brown and Coke at McDonald’s. Friends, put down the vegan strawberry muffin for one day and join me in doing something manly, for our dads. Like frying up sausage and topping it with a cheesy fried egg, and slapping it on a toasted bagel. Your dad will be proud. I know mine will be.
- 2 english muffins or whole grain bagels, sliced in half
- 2 farm fresh eggs
- 2 slices aged yellow cheddar or pepperjack cheese
- 2 large spicy pork sausage patties
- butter for toasting bagel
- Heat up your griddle or pan to medium heat. Butter english muffins or bagels and begin toasting, either on the griddle or in a toaster oven. We prefer a toaster oven because it makes it perfectly crisp.
- In the meantime, fry your sausages until dark golden brown and crusty. Set aside on serving plate once done.
- The last step is frying your eggs. Crack, salt and pepper and flip once the whites are cooked. Then flip, add cheese and kill the heat. This will yield the perfect drippy yolk and melty cheese.
- Assemble sandwich. Top english muffin or bagel with sausage and then cheesy egg. Eat immediately in all its melty, manly glory.
Nutrition information is a rough estimate for 1 breakfast sandwich.