What's that you're eating?

oldmanwilly said:
Same. I only ever had "Salisbury steak" at places like scout camp where it was served up as some rounded rectangle of grey matter, nominally resembling breakfast sausage and covered in unnaturally brown, thick, and salty "gravy." I was accustomed to grinding my own sausage at home and knew which pieces of fleisch to discard to avoid gristly, rubbery mincemeat. So, even though I didn't know what kind of carcass was used to make it, I had a pretty good idea which pieces of said carcass were used to make the rubber steak dinners. I refused to eat them every time.
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Refusal on my part was never an option. I remember having to eat from the same plate of some form of lamb and kraut dish that I couldn't stomach 3 days in a row. When I couldn't choke down the gristly chunks, back in the fridge it went until the next meal where I would have to give it another go. My folks took "eating what's placed in front of you" to a whole higher level.
 
Pàdruig Pàdruig I guess I was lucky it was only served at camp where cleaning the plate wasn't enforced. My parents were pretty strict, but not that strict by comparison. Either that or I was just too stubborn and they got tired of fighting, although I got pretty good at sneaking the worst bits to our poodle who hovered near me at the table. That dog was a Saint.
 
oldmanwilly said:
Same. I only ever had "Salisbury steak" at places like scout camp where it was served up as some rounded rectangle of grey matter, nominally resembling breakfast sausage and covered in unnaturally brown, thick, and salty "gravy." I was accustomed to grinding my own sausage at home and knew which pieces of fleisch to discard to avoid gristly, rubbery mincemeat. So, even though I didn't know what kind of carcass was used to make it, I had a pretty good idea which pieces of said carcass were used to make the rubber steak dinners. I refused to eat them every time.
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Mystery meat...
 
Now I want Salisbury steak!

My mother can’t cook. I can count on one hand the dishes she was capable of making, that I grew up on, and they all came out of a can/bag/box and involve no more than three ingredients. Pretty bizarre considering her mother was a great cook. I sometimes call her and try to get her jazzed about making a decent meal for herself but it’s hopeless.
 
I never list breakfast, even though I cook it everyday.

This morning is what some folks call a breakfast bowl.

Scrambled eggs in one pan. Ground sausage in another. Once the sausage is done. The eggs are poured in the frying pan. Then the sausage crumbles are poured in the eggs. Shredded cheese on top.

Swirled around until the eggs are cooked and cheese melted. Then served. It can go in a bowl, hence it's name, or poured out on a plate.
 
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