Just as I never seem to tire of arugula or fennel, I never (ever) tire of some form of carbohydrate with a cured pork product. I will scheme and plot to eat them, if only to stay in practice on the scheming-plotting front, but mostly because bacon-prosciutto-chorizo-guanciale and pasta-rice-bread? Good enough to scheme for.
Migas are basically fried stale bread. I think that in some parts of the Southwest and Mexico, fried tortillas are employed, but I am not at all well-informed on that subject. Migas are pretty flexible. You can (and I do, believe me) fry some jamon serrano (or, to be less pretentious, serrano ham) to toss in with them. And you can (and I do) top the whole greasy mess with an egg fried in the olive oil that the migas were fried in. That whole greasy mess? Delicious, but... not really my husband's thing. However, my husband is away on business (I'm not trying to sound jubilant. I do miss him. But I really like migas). And last night? Migas! Which I had been scheming to have since I knew he would be away. The (somewhat improper) serrano topping our saltimbocca alla romana? Purchased so that I could have some of the rest of the serrano with my migas.
The braised artichokes I served Monday, right before he left? Well, I did buy the artichokes because they looked fantastic, but I knew that I would be serving it with grilled bread to mop up the braising sauce, that bread would be left over, it would go stale, and be perfect for: migas.
I suspect that the kids would love migas, but... there wasn't enough stale bread for three of us to have them. And also, migas do not make a very healthy dinner, even with the nice big (and okay, predictable) arugula salad I had with them. At least, that's how I consoled myself for cheating my children of some seriously delicious fried bread. And as consolation it worked, probably because it's easy to be consoled when you have a plate of piping hot fried bread and serrano ham in front of you.