I have had a tumultuous relationship with eggs. When I was a kid I remember THINKING I liked them, nagging my Mum till I got one fried up in lots of lovely veg oil for breakfast, nibbling the white and screaming, running away from the yolk. It was definitely that I liked the idea of them much MUCH more than the actual drippy, sloppy yellow gunk that was left on my plate.
But, like many things from coffee and wine to single life and nights in watching Danish detective dramas (or Triple D’s, as I like to call them), I’ve grown to like them more and more with age. Now, I can’t get enough of our chicken-laid friends. Especially, when they are covered in the second most indulgent sauce of all time – hollandaise. The first is lobster reduction, for blindingly obvious reasons but I am yet to have a tax bracket high enough to have that on my breakfast so, for now, I’ll stick to good old tangy, sweet, golden, butter based hollandaise. Come to me, child.
This recipe is called Redneck Eggs Benedict for several reasons.
1. I don’t think people are light hearted enough when it comes to food. The way I see it, have fun. You want to put marshmallows on top of cake and then microwave it all into one big stringy, gloopy, delectable mess? (from experience, you MUST do this at least 10 times in your life) Go for it. So, I thought, who loves sweet, tangy, salty maple bacon, cornbread and eggs? Me. Oh, and truckers. Here we are with Redneck Benedict.
2. I love using leftovers. Not from any eco-tree hugging-ice caps are melting-don’t waste anything even the eyelids and bumholes from a pig – standpoint. Just because the satisfaction of using up all of something fills me with an excitement only equalled by lining up for a rollercoaster at Disney World. I can hear you all now, OOH ISN’T THAT LAME. Well, yes. I never claimed to be the next Iggy Azalea! Lame is my game. And yes, I enjoyed that rhyme too.
So, if it wasn’t clear already, this twist on the 4* and up hotel breakfast classic uses cornbread rather than English muffin, maple bacon rather than ham and spring onions instead of pincy snipped chives. Maple bacon, oh maple bacon. The BEST BEST part of this meal and one of the best parts of life, really. No hyperbole here. Streaky, fatty, TASTY bacon frying in a pan has to be a sight more beautiful than any oil painting. Just drizzle (well, pour) a generous amount of maple syrup over the top and leave to keep warm and crisp up in a pan in the oven. I, as you may have noticed, used the slightly racially questionable Aunt Jemima syrup here as I didn’t have any maple in and couldn’t be arsed to go buy some. What’s Aunt Jemima I here you ask? Pancake syrup my friends. What’s the difference with maple I here again? This one’s fake. And all the tastier for it.
The only faff with this is getting all the elements warm and together on the plate at the same time. Yes you will have 29 pans on the go but the results are utterly worth it. Indulge in the life of the Deep South – or the Deep South by way of Crystal Palace. Enjoy.