Unable to focus on anything more productive since I awoke around 3:00 a.m. and wrote a long, rambling blog post, I turned my attention to something that always captures my imagination and attention: food. The result of my engagement with concerns comestible is underway as I write this. By adapting a recipe for a Chinese breakfast with ingredients suitable for Cajun or Creole cuisine, I am in the throes of making a breakfast that may either delight or disgust my wife when she arises an hour or more hence. (Under normal circumstances, she would be up around 7:30, but given that she had been up for who knows how long when she returned to bed when I arose at 3:00, the hour of her awakening is up in the air.) Back to the food. I’m making congee flavored with about six ounces of andouille sausage. The charcuterie that gave rise to andouille sausage originated in France, so my breakfast this morning, once complete, can claim French, Chinese, Cajun, and Creole lineage. If, as I am considering, I dress the finished product with German mustard, this could be a true bastard’s breakfast with no discernible parentage. Hmm. German mustard? No, I think not. I’ll stick to soy sauce and sambal oeleek; still, the result will be a dish that any self-respecting chef would condemn as an inedible concoction deserving nothing but scorn and a trip to the dumpster. I am no self-respecting chef, though, so I shall look forward, with relish, to enjoying my breakfast this morning. But I don’t plan on smothering the dish with relish, in case you wondered.
The photo is my deviant desayuno (that’s breakfast in Spanish, introducing yet another ethnic influence on my day) on the stove as it readies itself to be eaten. I’ll give it half an hour.