Whenever I find myself in a relationship with a guy that could turn into “breakfast” I always make sure he knows that my idea of breakfast includes rolling over, and dialing room service.

I don’t cook breakfast food. Not sure why but somewhere in my female DNA code, that molecule got nixed. Cold pizza and fresh coffee really aren’t that bad. I’ve never been a big breakfast eater, which is a shame because my Mother makes the most incredible breakfasts. I must have been one as a kid, and then realized that it’s too difficult to accomplish in the morning. Heck, waking up is an accomplisment.

This morning I didn’t really want breakfast, just coffee. But I found a forgotten package of turkey bacon in my freezer. So I figured if no one is around, then it dosen’t matter if I turn it into a blackened mess.

The result? I cooked a dozen pieces of turkey bacon. Only three were edible. I tried low heat, high heat, medium heat, cleaning the pan each new batch, differnt oils, no oils, etc….

My hypothesis? I still don’t do breakfast.