Do not make this if you prefer your foods to exist non-contiguously.
Or if you applaud eggs rather than just humor them.
Or if you think that sweet & salty--that contrary yet ubiquitous duo--ought to just call it quits already.
Or if you don't have some inexplicable Depression-era-esque need to use up everything--including the stack of once-fluffy pancakes that were hastened to the fridge without so much as a piece of wax paper between their tops and bottoms to keep them decent.
Or--and perhaps most to the point--if you'd rather your breakfast not resemble a double-shelled tortoise bearing the tell-tale signs of a large and careless jam spill.
No, you wouldn't like this at all.
Scrambled egg and pancake napoleon
Serves 1
- 1 pat of butter
- 1-2 eggs, cracked and lightly beaten
- salt and freshly-ground pepper
- 1 blob (a.k.a. Tbsp?) of cream cheese
- 3 leftover pancakes
- 2 swipes of orange marmalade (or any other jam)
Melt the butter in a small skillet over medium-low heat.
Add the eggs and season suitably with salt and pepper. Allow the eggs to set before blobbing in the cream cheese. Count to ten (backwards, if you are the blast-off, venturesome sort), then stir to incorporate.
When the eggs are cooked to your liking, set them aside, giving the pancakes time in the pan for a resurrection.
Once warm, spread the tops of two pancakes with marmalade and then divvy the eggs in half to top each cake, creating a stack that finishes with the prettiest of your forsaken trio.
Depending on your style, eat from an attractive plate that mitigates for homeliness--or else straight from the pan leaving no trace of a relationship.