Sunday, February 27, 2011

February 27, 2011 – Scrambled Eggs

Scrambled eggs are the first thing I learned to cook. I can’t say exactly how old I was, about six or seven. I can still see myself standing in the old kitchen, in front of the 1970’s brown gas stove cooking away. I really do believe if you’re old enough to reach the stove, it’s time to start using it. And I still love scrambled eggs. I had them for breakfast this morning. I appreciate living in a city where the chickens can send their very fresh eggs direct to a farmer’s market a few blocks from my apartment. When you eat eggs in a simple form, good eggs make a difference. They do for baking as well.

When I was 17 I went as an exchange student to Sweden. The day after I arrived one of the brothers in the family asked me if I knew, “How to make these special and delicious eggs he had tried in America?” At first I couldn’t imagine what he meant. “Eggs Benedict?” I thought. Poaching is not something I have ever mastered. I end up with boiled scrambled eggs. It turned out he wanted to learn how to make scrambled eggs. I can add cultural ambassador to my resume.

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