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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