The sun is shining. The cats are purring. Icicles hang outside the window. Mountains of snow are piled against the door. Michael and I are both going slightly stir crazy and today we're going to try and make it down the mountain. But first, a little breakfast. I've made these because they're such a classic city dish, what I always ordered at the diner on the corner of Tenth Street and University Placer when my father took me out for breakfast.
A Taste of the Past on a Snowy Morning
A Taste of the Past on a Snowy Morning
A Taste of the Past on a Snowy Morning
The sun is shining. The cats are purring. Icicles hang outside the window. Mountains of snow are piled against the door. Michael and I are both going slightly stir crazy and today we're going to try and make it down the mountain. But first, a little breakfast. I've made these because they're such a classic city dish, what I always ordered at the diner on the corner of Tenth Street and University Placer when my father took me out for breakfast.