Yes.
I am blogging about boiling an egg.
This shouldn’t be something that’s hard to do. Until now, I thought I could do it with ease. Yet after three attempts (on three different days) I came to the conclusion that, apparently, I haven’t mastered this quintessential skill just yet.
When it comes to frying an egg, or scrambling an egg, I can do that. Quite decently, if I say so myself. But then one morning I decided I wanted to be healthy, and this happened.
Scenario 1: The Gooey Yolk.
Now I know that some strange people would find this acceptable. I however, almost cried. There are a few things that I will not eat, and one of the things on that list is a gooey egg yolk.
This was an amateur mistake, mind you, I was simply too eager to eat my egg. It wasn’t technically uncooked, it just wasn’t cooked enough. I should have responded rationally, recognise my mistake, laugh at myself, and then move on.
But of course I didn’t do that. I phoned my Mum to complain and whine about how my egg yolk was gooey, just like any 20 year old would do.
Scenario 2: The Overdone.
How do you ‘over-boil’ an egg?!
I thought I had it under control. I brought out my egg, put it on the counter, filled the pot with water and put it on the cooker, then toddled off to my room contentedly, leaving the water to boil. Only problem, I forgot to put the egg into the water. Who even does that?! So my Mum patiently explains that I should have put the egg in the cold water, rather than waiting for the water to boil first. *insert slow clap here*
Despite that hiccup, everything seemed okay, and I decided to leave the egg boiling for a generous amount of time, to ensure I didn’t have a repeat of the last attempt.
Everything looked good. I was feeling chuffed. And then I ate it.
The yolk was tough.
It shouldn’t have been tough.
Scenario 3: The ‘You Call Yourself an Egg’?!
I cannot express how traumatic this was. My most recent attempt at egg boiling (i.e. an hour ago) started out like any other attempt. Hopeful. Hungry. Determined. I got the pot, filled it with cold water, and remembered to put the egg inside. I put it on the cooker, and left it to boil. I thought, 10 minutes ought to do the trick. I walked away. I noticed I could smell smoke after a while, and went to check to see my pot was bringing out smoke. No not steam, smoke. I didn’t know how to resolve this, so I just let it be. I expected the water would start to bubble soon enough.
One way or another, it ended up staying on the cooker for about 15 minutes. No question, this egg should have been cooked. The water still hadn’t bubbled, but a decent amount of smoke was escaping the pot. I checked the time. It had definitely been at least 15 minutes. So I poured away the hot water, put the egg in some cold water and set out to crack the shell.
I hit the egg. It squished.
Part of the white was gooey, part of it was cooked. The egg had broken in the shell so I could see that the yoke was part cooked and part gooey! WHAT?! Frantically I asked my Mum what to do, and since the shell wasn’t completely off, just a bit chipped, I put it back on to boil. Yes.
10 minutes later, I go to the kitchen to see the pot foaming , bits of shell in the pot and little bits of escaped egg floating about. By this point, I didn’t care. One way or another, I will eat this egg. So I start to peel off the shell, and it’s refusing to come off smoothly, instead it’s taking chunks of the egg white with it. Part of the yolk is yellow, part is orange, the outside is hard, the inside gooey and weird looking.
Now I’m just thinking, okay so I’ll eat the white and bin the yoke. So I take out the yoke and see a not-so-small spot of red on the white. You know what I’m talking about. In horror I see visions of little chicks, and my battered egg is suddenly the very definition of unappetizing.
Yet in my hungry, determined, and annoyed state I start to pick at the outer white of the egg. I set out to eat an egg and by golly, I’m gonna eat some egg.
Let’s just say I’ve had better experiences with food.
……………
What’s funnier, in my opinion, is that I can cook. I’ve made dinner before. Chicken, mince meat, pasta, vegetables, salads etc. I can even do beans on toast and fried onions. But hard boiled egg?! Well, that’s clearly a whole other level of culinary school…
So… how do YOU like your eggs in the morning?
Gingham Butterfly 