September. The light is leaving Alaska the way it always does — slowly at first, then all at once, the days shortening by five minutes each day, the sun dropping lower, the angle of everything changing. September in Anchorage is gorgeous and melancholy simultaneously — the birch trees turning gold, the mountains getting their first dusting of snow, the entire landscape preparing for the hibernation that will last six months. I love September. I also fear it. September is the beginning of the countdown to December, to darkness, to the four-hour days that tested my PTSD and my medication and my will to stand in a kitchen when everything in my brain says lie down.
The blog is steady. Five thousand readers a week, the post-viral baseline that settled after the moose adobo spike. I wrote a piece this week about cooking through seasons — how the kitchen calendar in Alaska is more dramatic than anywhere else, how the ingredients available in September (salmon, berries, root vegetables) are completely different from January (frozen everything, canned everything, the creative desperation of a dark kitchen). The post did well. Readers in the Lower 48 don't understand what cooking in Alaska means — the isolation, the expense, the sixty-dollar gallon of milk in some rural villages, the resourcefulness required to feed a family when the supply chain runs through a single highway or a bush plane.
I made bibingka — Filipino coconut rice cake, the warm, sweet cake traditionally eaten during the Christmas season but made by me in September because I needed something warm and sweet and traditional, something that smelled like Lourdes's kitchen in December even though it's September and the darkness hasn't arrived yet but I can feel it approaching, the way you can feel weather changing in your bones. The bibingka was golden and coconut-sweet and I ate it warm from the pan with butter melting on top and the sweetness was a shield against the approaching dark.
Jason visited for the weekend. Three hundred sixty miles. He drove down Friday night and left Sunday afternoon. The visit was beautiful and strange — having him back in the apartment that's no longer his apartment, sleeping in the bed that's no longer his bed, the domesticity of the weekend overlaid with the temporary-ness of a visit. We cooked together — pancit, the Sunday routine we used to have — and the cooking was the same and everything else was different. Long-distance is a series of approximations. The approximation of presence. The approximation of home. Close enough to feel real. Different enough to feel not.
The bibingka I made that September was an act of preemptive tenderness—I was feeding my future self, the one who would have to get through December. But the truth is you don’t have to wait for Christmas to make a breakfast that feels like Christmas morning, and this is the recipe I come back to when I need that particular kind of warmth: a savory-sweet, make-ahead breakfast bake built for a table full of people you love, or for one person standing alone in a golden September kitchen, buying herself a little time.
Christmas Breakfast Ideas: Festive Morning Breakfast Bake
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 lb breakfast sausage, casings removed
- 6 large eggs
- 2 cups whole milk
- 1 tsp dry mustard
- 1/2 tsp garlic powder
- 1/2 tsp onion powder
- 1/4 tsp black pepper
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 6 cups cubed day-old bread (about 6 thick slices), cut into 1-inch cubes
- 1 1/2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
- 1/2 cup diced red bell pepper
- 1/4 cup thinly sliced green onions, plus more for garnish
- 2 tbsp unsalted butter, for greasing the pan
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 350°F. Butter a 9×13-inch baking dish generously and set aside.
- Brown the sausage. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, cook the sausage, breaking it up with a spoon, until browned and cooked through, about 7–8 minutes. Drain excess fat and set aside to cool slightly.
- Whisk the custard. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, dry mustard, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper until fully combined and slightly frothy.
- Layer the bake. Spread the bread cubes evenly across the prepared baking dish. Scatter the cooked sausage, diced red pepper, and green onions over the bread. Sprinkle 1 cup of the shredded cheddar evenly over the top.
- Pour and rest. Pour the egg custard mixture slowly and evenly over the layered ingredients, pressing the bread down gently so it absorbs the custard. Let rest for 10 minutes (or cover and refrigerate overnight for a make-ahead version).
- Top and bake. Sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup of cheddar over the top. Bake uncovered for 35–40 minutes, until the center is set, the top is golden, and a knife inserted in the middle comes out clean.
- Rest and serve. Let the bake rest for 5 minutes before cutting. Garnish with additional sliced green onions and serve warm straight from the dish.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 21g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 680mg