Overnight Sausage Strata

Labor Day. The porch. Two place settings on the small table. One plate of deviled eggs, one plate of potato salad, one bratwurst. The menu of every Labor Day for thirty years. The guest list: one. Elsa came at noon. She brought beer (for her — I don't drink) and sat on the step and we ate in companionable silence, the way Johanssons eat, the way we've always eaten — together, quietly, the food doing the talking. I looked at the lake through the trees. September light — the golden, slanted kind that makes Duluth look like a postcard. The ships on the horizon. I pointed at one and said, "That's a thousand-footer." Elsa looked. "Which one?" I said, "The big one." She said, "They're all big, Mom." I said, "Paul would know." She said, "Paul always knew." Paul always knew. The past tense. I've been using it for six months and it still catches, like a sweater on a nail. Paul knew. Paul loved. Paul identified. Paul read. Paul taught. The tenses of a life completed. The September light held until seven. We sat until the chill came. Elsa cleaned up. I washed the dishes — the Labor Day dishes, the ones I've washed after every Labor Day since 1990. The deviled egg plate. The salad bowl. The bratwurst plate. The washing is a meditation, the hot water and the soap and the ritual of cleaning up after a meal that marks the turning of the year. I made a simple dinner that evening: scrambled eggs. The meal of the tired. The meal of the done. I ate at the table, two places, one plate, and Sven was at my feet, and the house was quiet, and the September dark was coming in through the windows, and I was here. Still here. Still making deviled eggs on Labor Day. Still setting two places. Still identifying ships badly. Still washing the dishes. September. The turn. The light shifting. The year shifting. I'm shifting too. Slowly. Like the season. Like the light.

After Elsa drove away and the Labor Day dishes were dried and stacked and the house was just mine again, I started thinking about the next morning — the first morning of a September that would ask something of me. I’ve learned that if I put something together the night before, something that will be ready without much asking, the morning is easier to walk into. This strata is that dish for me now: you assemble it before bed, you slide it in the oven when you wake, and by the time the coffee is done the house smells like something good is happening. It has sausage, which always makes me think of Labor Day, and eggs, which I seem to cook constantly these days, and it feeds more than one — which is reason enough to make it, even when you’re only one.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 15 minutes (plus overnight refrigeration) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 pound bulk pork breakfast sausage
1 small yellow onion, finely diced
1 green bell pepper, finely diced
8 cups day-old white or sourdough bread, cut into 1-inch cubes (about 10 oz)
2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
8 large eggs
2 1/2 cups whole milk
1 teaspoon dry mustard
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon butter, for greasing the baking dish

Instructions

Brown the sausage. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, cook the sausage, breaking it into small crumbles, until no pink remains, about 6–8 minutes. Add the onion and bell pepper and cook until softened, about 4 minutes more. Drain excess fat and set aside to cool slightly.
Layer the bread. Butter a 9x13-inch baking dish. Spread the bread cubes in an even layer across the bottom of the dish.
Add sausage and cheese. Distribute the sausage and vegetable mixture evenly over the bread. Sprinkle 1 1/2 cups of the shredded cheddar over the top.
Make the egg custard. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, dry mustard, garlic powder, salt, and black pepper until fully combined and smooth.
Pour and press. Pour the egg mixture evenly over the layered bread, sausage, and cheese. Gently press the bread down with the back of a spoon so every cube begins to absorb the custard. Cover the dish tightly with plastic wrap or foil.
Refrigerate overnight. Place the covered dish in the refrigerator for at least 8 hours or overnight, allowing the bread to fully absorb the custard.
Bake. When ready to bake, remove the dish from the refrigerator and let it sit at room temperature for 20 minutes. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Remove the cover, sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup of cheddar over the top, and bake uncovered for 50–55 minutes, until the center is set and the top is golden brown.
Rest and serve. Let the strata rest for 10 minutes before slicing. Serve warm, directly from the baking dish.

Nutrition (per serving)

Overnight Sausage Strata — The Morning After a Meal That Marks the Year