There's A Good Chance You've Been Sleeping On Cheddar Brats As A Breakfast Sausage

I've been leaning into breakfast foods lately and that's because there's been such longstanding restrictive beliefs about them. People are so utterly particular before 11am and that's not really my thing. The palette needs to be explored. The senses need to be rewarded. You can't put my options in a simple box and hold me to it. Sometimes that means firing up the grill as I so eloquently explained last week for the masses:

I was on the fence taking this public. In one respect it's close to my core and something I care deeply about. On the other hand I know there's a lot of simple brains out there and this isn't an easy take to land on your narrow neurological runways. End of the day I'm committed to spreading this word though so please excuse the following conclusion. I said conclusion: 

Cheddar brats make a nice breakfast sausage.

Another day, another chance to fire up the grill with the sunrise. I got a bag of buns that are going south and won't last to the weekend and a handful of Paulina Market sausages. Those factors alone are enough for me to get a taste of a cheddar brat for breakfast and that's before we even talk flavor and sausage casing. Who doesn't like starting the day with a crunch and a snap? 

Truth be told, breakfast meat is a very exclusive category to a lot of people and that's not okay to me. Just because you add a little spice and sage doesn't mean you own the whole market. Meantime you got players like brats and hot dogs standing on the sideline waiting for the PM to drop on the handclock. Only then do they get time on a lot of grills and that's ridiculous to me. You cut off 30% of the day just because what? Grow some balls and be your own man. 

I had an exquisite brat to start the day. My only complaint is I didn't make it in my dad's garage which is okay because at present moment I've got about 48 hours of Garage Time in my future and also I know some people are very jealous of that fact. Sucks to be them. Chicago Catholic League til I die. Open up those garage doors fellas and let me see those brats cook: