Brunch Without the Polite Small Talk

At some point, brunch stopped being a meal and became a lifestyle. A competitive sport. A mimosa-fueled, line-waiting, tiny-plate drama machine. And in the middle of all that chaos stands one dish, smug and golden: the Eggs Benedict.

So naturally, we turned it into nachos.

Introducing Eggs Bene-Nachos: A Hollandaise Situation. The brunch remix nobody asked for, but that we’re absolutely forcing into existence.

We start with the base—crisped shards of toasted English muffins, golden and intentionally jagged. Then: layers of Canadian bacon crumbles, poached egg drizzles (yes, drizzles), and a sinful downpour of hollandaise that no human soul is ready for. The yolk runs. The cheese rebels. It’s the kind of brunch that leaves a stain and a story.

It’s not breakfast. It’s a fever dream with hollandaise and no accountability.

For garnish? A little chive. A whisper of smoked paprika. A deep sigh of “What have I done?”

Because today isn’t about following tradition. It’s about drenching it in sauce and serving it on chips.

Image created using DALL·E.

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