I know we’re supposed to be celebrating eggs this month, but I’ve gotta be honest – I’m not a fan.
Twice a year, I have a diner breakfast of fried eggs, homefries, bacon and toast. But I cover the eggs up with ketchup and hot sauce and use them as an excuse to indulge in greasy spoon potatoes and fat-laden pork strips.
But otherwise, I don’t eat egg salad, quiche or eggs Benedict. In fact, when I go for brunch, I’m the one person at the table mowing down on steak, chicken, stew, salad – anything but the breakfast items.
But I do appreciate eggs when cooking. Otherwise, my meatloaves and salmon cakes would fall apart and crumble like Charlie Sheen, my cakes would be as dry as Robert DeNiro’s smile, and my Pasta Carbonara would be awkwardly naked like Tara Reid.
The way they bind and glue ingredients together is a sheer miracle. I love watching the thick, silky globs of a beaten egg coat, and then fall off, a piece of veal or chicken cutlet before I dip it in the breading. I am mesmerized by whirling, twirling raw yolks as I whisk them into garlic, oil and anchovies for a rich, envious Caesar dressing. And I do get a little thrill by cracking an egg into a bowl of dry dessert ingredients, watching it sit atop the mountain of sifted whites and creams, and then breaking the yolk with my fork as I combine it ever so carefully.
When I cook, I tend to use kitchen utensils over my hands for many things. The exceptions I make are when I’m mixing ground meat and when I separate an egg. There is something so intriguing about feeling the cold whites run through my fingers while the yolk shifts back and forth like a claustrophe in an elevator. The only scene I remember from Amalie is when she runs her hands through a sack of coffee beans – I think these are very similar things.
Thinking about eggs this month, it’s amazing how often I use eggs without ever actually sitting down to a plate of ‘em.
I couldn’t make Champagne Sabayon, Spaetzle, Greek Lemon Soup (Avgolemono), my famous pork and beef Sliders or Texas Fried Catfish.
Thank you, chickens. I couldn’t do all of this without you.