
The breakfast casserole genre frustrates me. On the one hand, what’s not to love? All the things that make breakfast feel traditionally American—eggs, meat, cheese, bread—get tossed together and baked in a streamlined, easy-Sunday-morning, one-dish-to-wash kind of way. Plus, breakfast casseroles are ideal for entertaining because you can assemble them the night before and bake them the next morning while you shove your family’s mess in a closet before your guests arrive.
But more often than not, I’m let down by the breakfast casseroles I encounter. They seem lazy rather than convenient. The ingredients, although clearly baked as one, somehow taste distinct and confused at the same time. They’re like a bedroom with a bed, dresser, side table, and chair that needs a rug to tie the room together.
In my version of the breakfast casserole, Red Weapons are that rug. They bring juiciness that mingles with milk and eggs to create a near-hollandaise effect. And they provide acid where you wouldn’t think it belongs. It’s that bring surprise, that acidic pucker, that pulls you back for another bite and makes my take on this genre one that does not disappoint.


