The Ultimate Egg Muffin Breakfast Sandwich

Camila started kindergarten. Monday, August 21, 2017. She wore the pink dress and the white shoes and the flower headband that she called professional. She carried the pink backpack that has been packed and unpacked four times. She held my hand in the parking lot — the parking lot, the terrible parking lot, the parking lot that has made me cry four times before and is about to make me cry a fifth — and she walked beside me and her hand was small and warm and sure, and I thought: this hand. This is the last small hand. After this one, there are no more small hands. The hands will all be large and capable and independent, and I will miss the small ones, the ones that reached for mine, the ones that needed holding.

We got to the classroom door. She looked at me. She said, "You can go now, Mamá." Not unkindly. Practically. The way Camila says everything — as a fact, not a feeling. You can go now. She didn't need me to walk her in. She didn't need me to hold her hand past the threshold. She needed me to let go. And I let go. I let go of her hand and she walked through the door and she didn't look back — Camila never looks back, Camila is forward, always forward — and I stood in the parking lot and I cried. I cried the way I have cried at every parking lot of every school for every child, and this was the last time, and the lastness of it made the crying deeper, like the river that cut the channel, the same tears but a deeper groove.

I drove to the bakery. I made conchas. I made two hundred conchas and I didn't cry because the dough needed me and the oven needed me and the customers needed me, and being needed is the antidote to the parking lot, and I am grateful for the neediness of bread.

When I picked Camila up at 2:30 she was talking. Not to me — to the air, to the world, to the general vicinity. She said: "My teacher is nice. Her name is Mrs. Rodriguez. I sang for the class. They liked it. I made a friend. Her name is Valentina. Valentina has a cat. I want a cat. Can we get a cat?" The request has shifted from dog to cat, which is progress or regression, depending on your relationship with animals, and mine is: we are not getting a cat. Or a dog. Or any creature that needs feeding because I already feed seven people and two hundred conchas and I am at capacity.

I made papas con chorizo this week — diced potatoes cooked with Mexican chorizo, the spicy pork sausage that turns everything it touches orange and delicious. Breakfast food, comfort food, the food of the first week of school when you need something hot and filling and familiar to anchor the morning before the chaos of drop-offs and lunches and forgotten homework. Rosa made papas con chorizo every Monday, because Monday is the hardest day and hard days deserve chorizo.

Rosa made papas con chorizo on Mondays because Monday is the hardest day — and I understand that completely now, standing in my own kitchen on the first Monday after Camila started kindergarten, needing something hot and real and grounding before the drop-off, before the parking lot, before I have to let go of her hand one more time. When I can’t get to the chorizo, when the week is already moving faster than I can keep up, I reach for this egg muffin breakfast sandwich instead — fast enough for a school morning, filling enough to carry all seven of us through the door, and warm enough to feel like it matters.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 English muffins, split and toasted
4 large eggs
4 slices sharp cheddar cheese
4 slices Canadian bacon or breakfast ham
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
2 tablespoons mayonnaise or Dijon mustard (optional, for spreading)

Instructions

Toast the muffins. Split the English muffins and toast them in a toaster or under the broiler until golden and crisp at the edges. Set aside on individual plates.
Warm the Canadian bacon. Heat a large non-stick skillet over medium heat. Add the Canadian bacon slices and cook 1 to 2 minutes per side until lightly browned. Remove and set aside, keeping the pan on the heat.
Cook the eggs. Add the butter to the same skillet and let it melt over medium-low heat. Crack the eggs in, season with garlic powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Cook sunny-side up for 3 to 4 minutes for a runny yolk, or flip and cook an additional 1 minute for a set yolk.
Melt the cheese. Lay a slice of cheddar over each egg in the last 60 seconds of cooking. Cover the pan loosely with a lid to help the cheese melt fully.
Build the sandwich. Spread mayonnaise or mustard on the cut sides of the toasted muffins if using. Layer the Canadian bacon on the bottom half, top with the cheesy egg, and press the top muffin half down gently.
Serve immediately. These are best eaten hot, straight from the pan. Wrap in foil if you need to carry them out the door — they hold well for 10 minutes.

Nutrition (per serving)

The Ultimate Egg Muffin Breakfast Sandwich — Hot, Filling, and Ready Before the Bell