The Perfect Start to a Saturday Morning
There’s a certain comfort in routine, especially on a Saturday morning when the world outside is still waking up, and the day stretches out with promise. In our home, there’s one ritual that has become a cornerstone of these slow mornings—a plate of eggs and bacon on homemade sourdough. Whether it’s breakfast, brunch, lunch, or even a lighter supper, this simple yet satisfying dish is a go-to that never fails to bring warmth and contentment.
The preparation begins with thick-cut bacon, and it must be smoked. There’s no compromise here. The evocative smell of it cooking, rich and savory, fills the house, weaving its way through each room and drawing everyone to the kitchen. It’s the kind of scent that feels like a warm embrace, signalling the start of something good. The bacon is always grilled, not fried, with a metal grill placed over the strips to keep them flat, ensuring the perfect crispy plinth upon which the eggs will later rest.
Ah, the eggs. They’re the real stars of this dish, provided by our small flock of girls at the bottom of the garden. These hens are part of the family, their coop nestled among the trees where they cluck contentedly, pecking at leftover fruit and veg, along with their regular feed. In return, they gift us with beautifully fresh eggs, their yolks a deep, rich gold that’s hard to beat. These are not just any eggs; they’re the result of care, love, and a little bit of backyard magic.
In our house, the eggs are mostly scrambled, but not just any scramble will do. This process is almost ceremonial, requiring undivided attention to achieve the perfect balance between creamy softness and structure. It’s a delicate dance—one where distraction could lead to disaster.
The eggs are cracked directly into a frying pan, seasoned with Cornish Sea Salt and freshly cracked black pepper, and then whisked up right in the pan. The heat is set just under medium—no rush, no high flames, just a gentle warmth to coax the eggs into their ideal form. As they cook, they demand your full focus. The whisk moves continuously, breaking up the curds as they form, preventing any large clumps from setting. This constant motion ensures the eggs cook evenly, their texture remaining soft and velvety.
Slowly, very slowly, the eggs begin to thicken. This is the crucial moment. Get distracted, and you risk ending up with a rubbery pile—no one wants that. But if you stay present, giving the eggs the care they deserve, you’re rewarded with a creamy, luscious scramble. Just as they reach the point of perfection—still a little runny but holding together—they’re removed from the heat and ideally transferred from the pan to halt any further cooking.
Then comes the assembly. A slice of homemade sourdough, toasted to perfection, is the foundation. The butter melts into the warm bread, followed by the crispy, flat bacon, its edges slightly caramelised, providing a savoury crunch with every bite. Finally, the eggs are ladled on top, their golden softness contrasting beautifully with the crisp bacon and rustic sourdough. A dash of Tabasco adds just the right amount of kick, waking up the senses and completing the dish.
As we sit down to eat, the house still carrying the comforting aroma of bacon and eggs, there’s a quiet contentment that settles over the table. This is more than just a meal; it’s the perfect start to a Saturday morning, a moment of calm before the day unfolds. Each bite is a reminder of the simple pleasures in life—a well-cooked meal, the company of loved ones, and the beauty of taking things slow.
It’s these moments that set the tone for the weekend, grounding us in the joy of shared routines and the warmth of home. And as the last bite is savored, I can’t help but feel that there’s no better way to begin the day.