Nobody’s Prefect. And there’s no time like the new year to find that out.
While most people enjoy resolving themselves to being a better person in the upcoming year, January is the ideal time to reflect on what a failure you’ve been in the twelve months prior (“glass-half-full” guy, I know).
Whether it’s because you’re 0-9 in fantasy football Super Bowls, or because you’re a sociopath, you probably suck in some way or another.
Cooking is no different, and failure is common for any number of reasons. You may lack the necessary attention to detail. Whether it’s reading the recipe before starting, preheating a stove, or just making sure you have everything you need, one misstep can really fcuk up the entire process. If it’s your third time cooking, you may want to steer clear of anything that doesn’t say “easy” in the title. If all you are good at is opening cans, you may want to stick to the Sandra Lee “semi-homemade” section of the cookbook.
OR you may just have an over-inflated sense of your own culinary aptitude (Luke Skywalker called it “Weakness in Overconfidence”). In this Instagram age of visually-astounding cuisine being prepared by people who are more than qualified to do so, one can easily be led to believe that combining two independent foodstuffs to make a new uber-foodstuff will allow them to create the next gastro-sensation and subsequently break the Internet. I have deemed this delusional state “Fusionitis.” And not only do I own the naming rights to Fusionitis, I occasionally dabble myself.
Don’t get me wrong, some of my favorite things were borne of Fusion: Chino Latino, sweet-savory staples like Chicken & Waffles, and the more recent trend of everything needing to be topped with a fried egg. And, frankly, the only thing that prevents me from succumbing to Fusionitis more frequently is the overwhelming kitchen risk-aversion that comes with having two children under the age of five and a wife whose mood goes hand-in-hand with her hunger level. In short, nobody in the house takes kindly to, “Hey everyone, Daddy screwed the pooch on dinner. It’s gonna be another hour until we eat.”
But on occasion, things DO go south. THIS…is one of those moments:
A breakfast sandwich made out of a cinnamon roll. On the surface, it looks totally edible, and taste-wise, it was.
But Frank Lloyd Wright once quipped, “Form follows function”, and a sandwich is a prime example of this logic. If the sandwich bread doesn’t hold everything in, there isn’t much of a sandwich to be had. A cinnamon roll, in case you didn’t know, turns into two unraveling chunks of gooey dough when sliced in half, thereby completely foiling the whole ‘bread’ theory.
And did I say ‘gooey’? Another well-established tenet of the sandwich is that the butter/condiment/sauce goes INSIDE. This cinnamon roll was smothered in frosting. And don’t get me wrong, I love frosting. LOVE FROSTING. But there’s literally NOWHERE to grasp this sandwich (in the unlikely event that it didn’t unravel to begin with..). You know that nasty feeling of reaching inside a pumpkin to clean it out? Holding onto this was worse.
So, like the wiping clean of 2015, and the optimistic folly that 2016 is teeming with right now, there’s nothing to do but improve. In this sandwich, I’m using Andy Steffan’s delightful cinnamon french toast for the bread, and a cream cheese frosting adheres all of the delicious insides together. I would also encourage you to utilize maple syrup and Sriracha, because of course I would.
So where’s the photo of this Fusionitis-inspired brunch creation, you ask? Don’t have one – I haven’t made this yet. Because, like all great innovations, sometimes the beta-testing is best performed on someone else. But let me know how it turns out.
CINNAMON ROLL FRENCH TOAST BREAKFAST SANDWICH (makes 4 sandwiches)
- 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
- 1 cup whole milk
- 3 eggs
- 1/8 tsp. salt
- 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
- 1 tsp. vanilla extract
- 1 tbsp. sugar
- 8 slices of bread
Heat griddle to medium and spray with cooking spray. Combine dry ingredients (except bread), then add wet ingredients. Whisk until slightly lumpy. Dredge both sides of bread, and cook until golden brown on each side. Keep french toast warm in 200 degree oven until sandwiches are ready for assembly.
CREAM CHEESE ICING (courtesy of Southern Living magazine)
- 3 oz. cream cheese, softened
- 2 tbsp. butter, softened
- 2-1/4 cups powdered sugar
- 1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon (optional: I added this)
- 1 tsp. vanilla extract
- 2 tbsp. milk
Use hand mixer on medium to beat cream cheese and butter until creamy. Gradually add cinnamon and powdered sugar, beating on low until combined. Stir in vanilla and 1 tbsp. of milk. Add remaining tablespoon of milk, one teaspoon at a time, until icing is smooth and creamy.
- Cooked bacon strips (as much as you desire)
- Reserved bacon grease (1/2 tbsp. per egg)
- Fried eggs (1 per sandwich)
- Salt/Pepper (to taste)
- Deli turkey or ham (3 oz. per sandwich)
- Sliced sharp cheddar or pepper jack cheese (1 oz. per sandwich)
- Sriracha (optional)
- Real maple syrup (optional)
Heat oven to 200 degrees. Top deli meat with cheese on a cooking sheet, and put in oven to warm meat and melt cheese. Cook bacon to desired crispness, and reserve 1/2 tbsp. of grease per egg being fried. Fry eggs until edges are brown and crispy, adding desired salt and pepper. If you don’t like yolk-y eggs, flip the eggs over once edges are set.
- French Toast
- Moderate spreading of cream cheese icing
- Turkey/Ham & Cheese
- Cream cheese icing, with syrup/Sriracha if being used
- French Toast