#crispy hashbrown
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slutdge · 1 year ago
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i remember like once a month i can just have breakfast for dinner if i want
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dragonbleps · 2 months ago
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i made good breakfast. too good. i want more. i cannot fit more. it was so tasty. i am full
sadness and depression on planet earth
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drakonovisny · 3 months ago
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what's the best hangover food in your opinion?
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rigginsstreet · 2 years ago
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potatoes are so gross it has to be said. im normal actually for not wanting mushy food in my mouth
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nach0 · 11 months ago
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wating to. you know. actually eat the food i have vs 'damn this is an interesting texture. i wonder what it would be like if i crushed it in my hands.'
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alwaysyummyrecipes · 2 years ago
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HOMEMADE HASH BROWNS – Extra Crunchy & Easy Recipe by Always Yummy!
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mariunnnn · 4 months ago
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youtube
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republicspn · 2 years ago
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I want a giant breakfast.
Aka I want someone to make it for me 😭
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rafesangelita · 3 months ago
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cowboy!rafe who wakes up to farmer’s!daughter!reader making him breakfast in one of his shirts 🥞 fluff with a little bit of spice please! thank you so much, i love all of your works!
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warnings: suggestive language, fluff, suggestive ending
a/n: lol i made breakfast this morning and listened to this song, so that’s what i imagined lol
rafe was a heavy sleeper, but when he smelt crispy bacon in the air and heard ‘foreigner’ playing on the radio downstairs, he figured he’d go check on what woke him up so pleasantly this morning. wearing nothing but his flannel, there you were making a full table of breakfast. fried eggs, pancakes, bacon and hashbrowns.. all of rafe’s favorites. deciding he wasn’t going to make his presence known just yet, he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching as you swayed your hips to the music.
“i’ve been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life..” rafe whispered the lyrics to himself, his eyes traveling down to your bare legs. you were really in for it if he found out you weren’t wearing anything underneath the worn out fabric. rafe could see you pop a finger in your mouth to try the strawberry jam, the tip of his tongue running across his bottom lip. there was something about a beautiful woman, his woman, making breakfast after a long night of love making that just made him want to propose to you right then and there.
deciding he couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer, he snuck up behind you, lifting you off of the floor by your hips. “ray!” you yelped, laughing hysterically as he showered you in kisses. “what are you doing up so early?” his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest as your head rested in the curve of his neck. “making my favorite man one helluva’ breakfast. ‘figured you’d wake up hungry after last night..” he hummed. “oh, i woke up hungry all right.” you shivered when you felt his fingers trailing themselves down your stomach.
it wasn’t long before he had you sitting on top of the counter, his stature standing firmly between your thighs as he kissed you sloppily. with your nails digging into his skin, a silent plea for him to take you upstairs, you and rafe groaned when he leaned an arm against the cabinet, the old wood creaking under his weight. “you ‘turn that stovetop off?” he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he took two handfuls of your ass. you nodded your head, both of you abandoning the feast downstairs for something much more.. filling.
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inkillusionst · 2 years ago
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Y'know what would make a great cereal?
Bacon bits. Like the really crispy kind
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storiesofsvu · 4 months ago
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Decadent Desires Ch 19
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Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, the usual denial of feelings. It's all coming together now! Only a couple of more chapters to go! I'm super curious to how y'all think things are gonna go down and exactly when the oh moment really will be/what's gonna make them both admit it to themselves.
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Emily was a little later than she thought she would be, barely making it before breakfast hours ended but the important thing was that she got the food and she made it to your place and wasn’t whisked away by any phone calls. Securing the bag and drink tray she made it through the halls of your building until she was outside your door, knocking on it the best she could with her elbow. It took a couple of minutes, she could hear some shuffling gong on inside, but you finally pulled the door open, your head titling at the sight of her.
“Hey.” She greeted with a warm smile.
“Hey…” you replied, a tiny laugh coming from your mouth, “what’re you doing here?”
“I promised I’d bring brunch.” She held up the bag, “well, lazy brunch.” She surveyed you for a minute, watching the gears turning behind your eyes and it was her turn to laugh. “Oh my god, you really are out of it. Jetlag gets you that bad? I thought you travelled for work?”
“Not often.” You admitted, feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks as you fully remembered the conversation in her office, “and it’s only ever like, a two hour time difference.” You stepped back, letting her into the house and raising your hands to take the tray and bag from her so she could get rid of her shoes and coat.
“You really forgot I was coming?” She asked, swiping the bag back from you and following you into the living room.
“Figured you were off on a case.” You shrugged, dropping back down onto the couch, fiddling with the remote to turn the volume down as you burrowed yourself under the blanket you’d been under before the bell rang. “I’m glad you weren’t though…. I’ve been doom scrolling through three different apps trying to decide what to get delivered for hours without a single thought in my head on what I could possibly want.”
“Well, enjoy some delicious grease then.” Emily suggested with a smile, pulling what she wanted from the bag before handing it over to you.
“Thank you. Seriously.” You eagerly searched through it, pulling out a McMuffin and a hashbrown, your stomach loudly growling. “Would’ve wasted away to nothing without it.”
Emily laughed softly, watching the intricate way you inspected the ingredients of the sandwich, adding both ketchup and hot sauce into it before slipping a hashbrown next to the egg and putting it all back together. You let out a very appreciative groan after your first bite and silently gave her a very thankful look that she didn’t need words to transcribe.  
“I’ve never tried that.”
“Oh my god it’s the best.” You mumbled over a bite of food, swallowing it down “especially when the hashbrown’s extra crispy like this.”
“Guess it’s a good thing I got extras.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a true angel?” You asked and she laughed.
“Not often.”
“Well you are.” You leant in, kissing her cheek gently, “thank you.”
“Of course.” She squeezed at your knee, “I bailed on an arranged date, I had to make it up to you.” She gestured toward the tv, “now, what’re we watching?”
“Real Housewives. LA I think?” You shifted over to your right, nestling into the corner of the couch, your legs extending onto the longer part of the sectional as you adjusted the blanket. “It’s my brain rot show, I can never keep the cities straight. Now c’mon.” You waved her over to you, “make yourself at home, get comfy and put your feet up.”
Emily laughed softly, easily sliding in beside you as you pulled down another blanket to make sure there was enough for both of you. The sectional was wide, the extended portion more than spacious enough for you to both use it without being right up against each other. Not that that mattered, once breakfast was eaten and you just had coffee to sip on (you didn’t miss that Emily skipped coffee at McDonald’s, opting for a local shop a couple of blocks from your place so she could get your preferred seasonal blend) you were nestled right into Emily’s side. Her arm instinctively looped over your shoulders, encouraging you to lean into her. If you squinted hard enough and it wasn’t for the blustery weather outside the windows, it was like you were back on vacation.
With the television playing on, it didn’t take very long before you were drifting off, Emily managing to snag your almost empty coffee cup before the remnants split all over your couch. She was more than happy to let you snooze against her, your heart beat calm, thudding against her own rib cage and eventually lulling her to sleep too. Either one or both of you would wake up occasionally throughout the afternoon, sometimes shifting because of a cramped shoulder or foot, others because your bladder was screaming or because you desperately needed some hydration. The channel got changed a couple of times, flicking between a few options so you weren’t totally sucked into one overdramatic mess of somewhat real reality tv. Otherwise the two of you returned to your little corner of the couch, burying deep into each other’s arms with happy sighs and content little smiles. There wasn’t much of a better way to spend a Sunday.
At one point you woke up with a small yawn, rolling in Emily’s lap toward the arm of the couch to go back to sleep when a piece of your hair suddenly yanked. You thought it must’ve just been caught under your shoulder or her arm, it had been lose earlier, but Emily made a small noise.
“Sorry…” She winced and when you rolled your head back to look up at her she had a sheepish grin on her face and the ends of half your hair in her hands. “I got fidgety, needed something to occupy my hands.”
You let out a small laugh, carefully shifting so you were sitting at a better angle for her to continue the braid, “I, uh.. kinda wanted to ask if you would do it anyways but I thought that might we weird or something.”
“Not weird at all.” She assured, “as long as you waking up to some weirdo braiding your hair wasn’t weird.”
“You’re not a weirdo. If I woke up to Tony doing it, I’d kick him out.” Your body relaxed into her legs, “and.. for the sake of you not doing it, undoing it and doing it over a million times, the pink basket under the table has fidget toys.”
“You have a collection?” She asked, genuinely curious.
“Heather started buying them for me because I kept fidgeting with and breaking her super fancy expensive pens.” You explained and she laughed, “and I’m not allowed to have clicky pens at important meetings anymore.”
“Such a strict boss.” She teased, her fingers softly tickling at the back of your neck, pulling a shiver from you before she dug around for an elastic to finish the first braid.
The afternoon continued much like the morning had, half watching shows, mild chit chat, cuddling and dozing as the skies turned grey and the rain started. The next time you woke up the sun was completely gone from the sky and the side Emily had been pressed into was cold. You were going to just wait a minute, let your brain realize what you were even watching when you heard the tell tale sounds of your pantry drawers being slid open and shut. With a yawn, you pushed up to sitting, looking into the kitchen over the back of the couch.
“Hungry?” You asked and Emily nearly jumped, letting out a small laugh as she stilled.
“Me? Your stomach was making volcano noises so loud I’m surprised you didn’t wake yourself up.”
“We can just order.” You offered and she waved you off.
“Nah. I think I’ve got everything I need I was just looking for your spices.”
“Small cupboard, top right by the stove.” You replied, watching for a minute as she pulled it open and plucked through them, picking out a couple.
Curiosity got the best of you and you stretched out your limbs, a few of them cracking, achy muscles finally feeling relief as you moved off the couch and padded into the kitchen. Your arm snagged around Emily’s waist and you pressed a soft kiss into her shoulder.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, and hey, we were both hungry and you were asleep. I figured the best thing I could do was snoop.”
“You want wine?” You asked.
“Please.”
Moving seamless through the room around each other you pulled down a couple of glasses, grabbing a handful of ice from the freezer for her glass before you popped a bottle of white, filling one up and sliding it over to her. You opted for red yourself, sliding the white into the fridge and the malbec back into the wine rack before you hoisted yourself up onto the corner of the counter. A happy hum left your lips when you took your first sip of wine, your body relaxing as you watched Emily move through the kitchen.
Every so often she had to ask you where a specific pan or utensil was but otherwise she had everything covered. She would never say that she was a particular whiz in the kitchen, but she could get a pretty good handle down on things, alter recipes to simplify them to what was on hand and go from there. The television was still going in the background, giving some background noise to the experience when the two of you weren’t talking.
You watched with a small smile as Emily popped two butterflied chicken breasts, coated with shake and bake into the oven. She turned back to the island, where she had pulled out all her supplies so she wouldn’t forget anything, glancing through them until she found the jar of pasta sauce.
“You have garlic?” She asked, raising a brow toward you, breaking herself out of her zone. She caught you half staring at her, hiding behind the rim of your glass and instantly felt the heat creeping up the back of her neck.
“Yeah.” You smiled, “powder’s in the spice cupboard, fresh is on top of the microwave.”
She chose the fresh garlic, swiftly crushing it and doing her best at mincing it up before tossing into a pan with some onion and oil.
“You want a hand?” You asked and with an almost shy smile she shook her head.
“Nah. I’m cooking for you; you just sit there and look pretty.”
“The hardest job of them all.” You mocked, a small laugh escaping your lips and Emily felt the blush creeping into her cheeks again.
Twenty minutes later and she was plating up a semi makeshift chicken parm for the two of you, spices added into the jarred sauce, and working with whatever cheese was in your fridge, but it smelt and looked delicious. You refilled both of your wine glasses, settling at the island to eat, groaning over how tasty it was. You teased Emily for never having cooked for you before, saying she was locked in and trapped now. She laughed, a glittering in her eye as she glanced over to you, a warmth blooming through her chest at the way you were looking at her.
Since Emily had cooked you ushered her away when she tried to help with the dishes, filling up her wine glass once more and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. With the kitchen clean, you flicked the overhead light off, scooping up your wine glass as you crossed back to the living room.
“Think you’ve got a movie in you?” You asked, noticing the way she was flicking through options on the screen.
“Yeah.” She looked up to you, shifting your preferred blanket out of your way so you could take your place beside her on the couch. “Figured I’ve got at least that much left before bed.”
“Did you want to stay?” You asked, tucking yourself under the blanket and nuzzling into her side.
Her scrolling through the app paused momentarily before it continued, “yeah. If that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect.”
**
Tony had been relentlessly bugging you for lunch, dinner, coffee, any kind of hangout since discovering you in Emily’s office. Knowing that he was likely going to press into things you didn’t really want to get into in public you’d finally said that as long as he brought takeout and a bottle of wine he could come over Thursday night. You’d picked through dinner at the kitchen island while you caught up, Tony surprisingly holding back while he listened about your vacation (that you held back plenty of details on) and he took some time to vent about the current NCIS/BAU case that was still open and struggling to move anywhere.
Eventually you dragged him and a fresh bottle of wine upstairs. All of the shopping trips over the past few months had your closets overflowing a bit too much for you liking and you wanted to get a head start on some spring cleaning. Your attention was mainly on pulling things out of your closet as Tony poked around your room as per usual.
“You know, if you know any FBI secrets, you should probably let me in on them.” He started, “I am an agent of the law after all.”
You nearly snorted, rolling your eyes and continued to ignore him.
“I mean, at the very least, should I think about switching departments? You think an SSA gets a better paycheque than us?  I could probably put in for a pretty smooth transfer after this case closes…”
“You’d never do that to Gibbs.” You interrupted, breaking off his train of rambling, “and Emily has family money, the job didn’t make her rich.”
Tony had been your friend for long enough that he didn’t need to be a profiler, hell he didn’t even need to be a special agent to pick up on the way your eyes lit up when you said Emily’s name. How you couldn’t seem to control your smile when you told him stories about the Maldives with a far off look in your eyes that you didn’t even register yourself. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything, but he knew you weren’t just going to share it all at the drop of a hat, when it came to things like this, and planting the seeds he wanted to, he had to tread carefully. Even if the seeds had already been growing for weeks already.
“So..” he leant back into an armchair, crossing his arms behind his head, “tell me more about Emily.”
You cast him a look over your shoulder as you tossed another dress into the donation pile, “I already told you; we enjoy our time together. I’ve expanded my repertoire of fancy restaurants in DC, could probably compile a list for you. You want it in order of cost, food quality or first date to proposal?”
“Please,” he teasingly scoffed, “the food is the last thing I’m interested to hear about from your dates.”
“You know I don’t kiss and tell Tony.” You threw a balled up shirt at his face, “especially considering she’s currently your co-commanding officer. I don’t need you looking at her and knowing what she’s into, gross.”
“As entertaining as that might be…” he straightened out the shirt, folding it before adding it to the donation pile, “I was more curious about the other side of things. I mean… this is the longest you’ve been with someone in a few years.”
He caught the way your hands faltered, the dress in your hands nearly slipping off the hanger before you caught yourself, straightening it to return into the closet.
“Trust me, it’s not like that.” Laughing, you turned back to him, hands crossed over your chest, “She paid nearly sixty thousand for that vacation and that’s if the all inclusive comment was true and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. Then she tried to pay me on top of that for my time. I’m basically an over qualified sex worker.”
“As a member of law enforcement, I can confirm that you aren’t.” He replied, his hand reaching out as he started to fiddle with the jewelry stand on your dresser, “and if you were, the woman running an entire unit of the FBI wouldn’t be so happily enjoying it. It would be all secrets, dark hotel rooms and NDA’s.”
“Tony, lay off it.” You replied with a huff, turning back to your closet, “I already told you; I don’t have time to date.”
“You spent Sunday night with her,” he offered, “you’re hanging out with me right now. You even had enough time to swing by her office, which is in an entirely different district, in the middle of a work day, with lunch and you were there for at least an hour. Seems like you have plenty of time.”
“It’s not about physical time and you know it. It’s about, the emotional labour, having to be on all the time, getting through the awkward stages, fucking small talk.” Your fingers slid down a plum dress, pulling it out from the row of clothes and you felt your heart leap when you realized it was the dress you wore on your first real date with Emily, the one that was so rudely interrupted by her phone before you could even get a chance to kiss her. You groaned, letting the dress fall back into your closet to be kept, “dating fucking sucks.”
“We’re not talking about casual dating or swiping through apps and having to deal with a million first dates, we’re talking about Emily.”
“What about her Tony?”
“You wouldn’t have brought her lunch if you didn’t like her.”
“I wouldn’t have said yes to being her sugar baby if I didn’t like her. I stopped by because Heather basically ordered me to.”
“So you’re telling me things between the two of you are strictly contractual? Financial and sexual benefit only?”
“Yes!”
The way your heart was suddenly beating in your chest, the worry that was beginning to eat away at your insides was telling you that Tony was onto something. You’d been so surrounded by work it had been incredibly easy to shove your feelings down, only leaning into them when you were out with Emily, as if it was part of the show, part of the sugar baby package. It kind of was after all, the flirtation, the compliments, the making her feel wanted and appreciated, taken care of, it was part of what she was paying you for. You’d said it yourself; companionship was far more than just sex. Even if you had started to slip deeper into the role than you’d originally intended, developing real feelings, it wasn’t like Emily was on the same page, she was playing her part too. Tony was grasping at straws, no matter how hard he wanted to push his fairytale narrative, or how fast your pulse happened to be.
He seemed to be able to read your mind, see the hesitancy in your eyes as his nagging sank in.
“Hey,” he nudged at you with his foot, breaking you from your daydreams, “you can claim whatever you want, but you cannot deny there were more than just two wine glasses in your drying rack.”
“So?” Your brow furrowed, it didn’t matter if Emily had been over at your house, that was nothing new.
“There were also two coffee mugs, two full sets of dinner plates and utensils, which likely means homemade, not takeout. I mean, most situations like this everything happens at hotels, you guys stopped that months ago. That on its own is one thing, but your bathroom tells a different story?”
“Do tell Very Special Agent DiNozzo.”
“Second toothbrush, different set of shampoo and conditioner, perfume that is far too floral for you to ever wear, glasses cleaner on your nightstand and your vision is twenty-twenty. There’s a Yale hoodie on the back of your couch which is interesting considering you went to Georgetown and Prentiss has a Yale degree in her office. You keep two spare sets of keys on a hook in your kitchen and surprisingly, one of them is missing. I would say that’s the most suspicious part of it all, but don’t even get me started on these.” His hand lifted up the cardboard backing containing your starfish earrings and you felt your cheeks heat.
“Guess she saw them in the gift shop at some point and thought they were cute.”
“Bullshit.” He grinned, “when you found out NCIS meant time on the water, you were practically infatuated and wanted to know everything about it. I could’ve married you right then and there.”
“Yeah right.” You scoffed with a laugh.
“We had a movie marathon, I brought Splash and Mermaids, you reluctantly, and rather intoxicated, brought out Aquamarine. You love that movie more than anything and you never tell anyone about it unless you really trust them or care..”
“it’s not like it’s a take to the grave secret.”
“You were down in the Maldives, right on the ocean and got all gooey and starfish eyed, that dreamy smile on your face, swimming every day pretending you were a mermaid, that you were free and you told it all to Emily, didn’t you?”
“It might’ve come up.” You shrugged.
“And instead of her laughing it off or thinking it was childish or stupid she went out and found starfish earrings to buy for you and now you have a permanent and physical reminder of the trip and time spent together.” He placed the jewelry back down on the dresser, “I think the two of you might actually have something here and it would be a shame to waste it away because you refuse to talk about it.”
You cast him a look, one only a best friend of twenty years could fully understand without you saying anything and he shook his head with a laugh.
“I’m just saying, things seem a lot more comfortable and intimate than I would expect from a sugar baby relationship. Did she pay you for lunch?”
“Not with money.” The corner of your lips curved up and a smirk flashed across his face as he made a growling meow noise.
“What about Sunday?”
“I told her not to.”
“My point exactly.” He stepped toward you, softly cupping your face, “you’re happy right now. Happier and less stressed than I’ve seen you in years and I want to see you keep being this happy, don’t deny yourself that, okay?” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, finally dropping his hands, “let the girl who buys you starfish earrings and thinks they’re adorable be your girl.”
“Just help me get these bags out to the car, okay?”
_______________________
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paper-mario-wiki · 7 months ago
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PLEASE share the pancake recipe!!!
ingredients (eyeballed measurements, you can do this):
pancake mix (buttermilk mix bought from farmer Bob who has a corn maze outside of seattle)
milk
1 or 2 egg whites per serving (you can determine what that means, i trust your judgement)
i preheat my stove to a little over medium. like in the 5-7 range.
pour the milk into the buttermilk mix until it's like, as thick as a smoothie. it doesnt have to be perfectly smooth, and actually wouldn't benefit from it either.
crack an egg but open it upward so that the contents dont spill out. then, over the bowl, pour the yolk back and forth between the two pieces of shell. after a few times, the yolk will separate from the whites, which will fall out and into the bowl.
then you feed the yolk to Scarlet, my dog, with her breakfast kibble.
i whip the egg whites in a cereal bowl with a fork. the whole point of whipping the whites is to trap air in them, until they basically turn into a foam. keep that in mind while you're mixing, and try to trap air in the mixture. imagine you're a taffy puller. ya know, pulling taffy. same principle. use the arm you jerk off with, as it's probably stronger and has the same basic muscle memory for this task.
after they're nice n foamy, add them to the batter, but don't mix or whip it in. as much as you can, gently fold the two concoctions together. you don't wanna pop all those bubbles you just made.
i like to hold a stick of butter and draw all over the pan to coat it in a semi-generous amount of butter, which will make the skin super crispy as it sorta fries in it.
the old "wait until the bubbles on the back of the pancake pop to flip it" rule doesnt really work here, since the thing is basically gonna be bubbling and foaming and popping IMMEDIATELY, so INSTEAD:
wait until the batter is only 40% shiny on top, as a lot of the pancake is going to cook through very quick since the batter is basically a dense network of very thin bubble walls.
after flipping, give it about 70% of the time you gave it on the first side to properly finish up the bottom.
i suggest pairing with bacon and hashbrowns.
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fatty-food · 6 months ago
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Breakfast sandwich topped with egg, bacon, smoked Gouda and a crispy hashbrown (via Instagram)
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girlballs · 6 months ago
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Hashbrowns enjoyer here, what do you put on/in your hashbrowns?
i make them super simple and the exact same way every time since i just use cheapass ingots of hashbrowns instead of loose ones or making them by hand
bit of oil in a small skillet on medium, plop the ingot in when it gets hot, flip when the bottom's crispy + two eggs into the pan + a lid, light salt & black pepper when it's all done
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herejusttosufferalong · 4 months ago
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So, I'd just like to report from my corner of the WH, where I'm calmly eating my buttermilk waffles topped with berries and extra whipped cream with a side of 2 sunny-side up eggs, chicken fried steak, extra crispy hashbrowns, and unlimited refill coffee.
So far, it's been a shitshow, with people having a food fight and flinging all that good food at each other (I may have seen some chairs and stools being tossed as well. Tsk, tsk). Some people are leaving through the door while some are slinking out the window... idk, maybe to come back at a later date and declare they have been in the restaurant the whole time amid the chaos.
Meanwhile, the waitress asked me if she could get me something else... I just added fresh toast with, again, berries and whipped cream, a ton of bacon, and their unlimited mimosas. As the waitress walked away to get my extra order, I wondered if the WH had expanded its menu to include a big bucket of popcorn coz the show just might not be over yet.
WH doesn't serve popcorn but we can have the jakolas run out and get ya some
gotta give the seasonal employees something to do
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a-punchline-on-duct-tape · 7 months ago
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if matt dillon ever gave me a chance i PROMISE i would make the most cripsy delicious hashbrowns he will ever consume EVERY morning
n for dinner i will cook him the most amazing garlic knots he will ever eat ill even sprinkle a lil cheese on top and i promise it’s a lil crispy on the outside and soft on the inside
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