“I doubt whether the world holds for anyone a more soul-stirring surprise than the first adventure with ice cream”- Heywood Broun

This post is not really about ice cream, but in the second photo a young Chris Grove of Nibble Me This seems to be embracing what will become a lifelong passion. The joy of food and the strength of family. In the photo his dad seems to be working hard to bring Chris this joy. What a gift. The kind of gift that only a potent combination of summer and childhood can bring. GREG

I grew up in the sweet sticky heat of Florida summers.  I was literally “toes in the sand, head in the clouds” before I learned to walk.

I was raised in the “middle class dream” of block houses, lawn chairs, picnic tables, and family cook outs.  We spent our weekends at the YMCA and the beach.  My dad hand-churned ice cream in the backyard on summer afternoons.

Once I could walk, I beat the summer heat by getting out early and spending my mornings exploring the wide world known as “our lawn”.   I would chase anoles (lizards indigenous to Florida, not Aholes, which are indigenous to most highways).  I tried mimicking the birds that sang out to see if I could trick them into replying.  I watched ants as they busied themselves building their mounds.  I built forts for my plastic army men and streets for my Matchbox cars in my sand pit. 

But the one constant to my summer days was just about the time it was getting too hot outside, my mom would call me inside for lunch. 

It’s that time of year when we all get a little Irish. I in fact have a wee bit of the Irish on me today. But I warn ya; I’ve a mouth on me. In fact I could eat the lamb o' Jayjus through the rungs of a chair! So it’s a proper fry up for me today. Which is a traditional Irish breakfast just in case you’re a gombeen. Wise up ya gack ye!

The Irish breakfast is a staple of the Irish household and most every eatin’ house on that Noble Island. Now I don’t care if you are a DNS jackheen or a culchie, why should the Irish have all the meaty fun? After all, they imported St. Patrick’s Day to this country so we may as well grab the delph and cutty knife and dig right in.

Now unless you are a thick tool, you know that a traditional Irish breakfast revolves around meat, so my version starts with bangers and rashers. Which may be familiar to you as sausage and bacon. However, the Irish versions are a bit different than their cousins across the pond. Bangers are larger than American breakfast sausage and have a heavier flavor. Rashers resemble ham and taste like a cross between ham and bacon.

But this is where I diverge from tradition. Because my Irish breakfast comes with baked eggs and is served in a ramekin, everything baked all together. Eggs baked in a ramekin are an ideal vehicle for so many ingredients. Why not take an Irish slant with assertive cheddar and plenty of that Irish meat I mentioned? It’s served up nice and neat and fully complete. It's sure to get ya gummin’ for more!