Thanksgiving breakfast is the most exciting, exhausting, laughter inducing, sweat producing, joyful, cozy, carb-a-licious event of my entire year.
Translation: It’s my favorite.
On Thanksgiving Eve, my kitchen transforms into a bakery and anyone in my path is given a task…alright, several tasks…to complete.
Dish drying and chocolate drizzling…
…egg separating and recipe reading
For some reason, these lovely lovely people continue to subject themselves to participating in baking any and every treat my mind conjures.
I love them so.
This year, we even held an impromptu pre-bake with the sole purpose of deciding on a new cinnamon roll recipe. We made sticky buns and traditional cinnamon rolls only to reach a conclusion that they were both wonderful and that we should let Thanksgiving breakfast decide for us.
How beautiful is that glistening caramel corner of those sticky buns?
I’m clearly rubbing off on my girls. Last year, we made ebelskivers; dutch pancakes filled with a sweet or savory surprise. My decision not to make them this year was met with shrieks of sadness.
So, I let them choose the ones they wanted to make and put them in complete charge of ebelskiver making.
Each girl had their own ebelskiver batter to prepare and, without going on an on about how it’s not fair that my three little flower girls are all grown up, independent, and nearly the same age as me now, I’ll say this, their kitchen skills made me proud.
Jonathan was the foreman of our little baking production.
So naturally he got all the hugs the room had to offer.
This is Hannah’s candid photo pose.
It makes me smile.
So does this…
The next best part of Thanksgiving breakfast…aside from all the delicious treats…and watching the parade…and being with family…is the dress code: Pajamas!
Pajamas like Jon’s are pretty much a win for Thanksgiving breakfast.
We decided this year that Thanksgiving breakfast should be a semi-annual event.
I’m giddy thinking about how I might make that happen.