Weekend breakfasts with Nice Dad. I would order biscuits and gravy or pancakes or French toast, but he would often order Eggs Benedict. I didn't like eggs (that's something I've actually only grown into in the past few years), but I always thought they were so fancy and pretty looking--a perfectly round English muffin, nice pink ham, a little white pouch of yolk, all covered in golden yellow hollandaise and bright green herbs or onions. I remember thinking, "When I'm a grown-up, that's what I'll eat."
So tonight, Sweet Husband poached the eggs, I made the hollandaise (which, by the way, is super easy to make from scratch), and wahlah--some very respectable "Grown-Up Eggs".