Monday, April 9, 2012


If you've read this blog regularly, you know that I am not a great fan of eggs.  Scrambled, yes, omelets and frittatas, sure, especially if they're filled with cheese and other flavor masking ingredients.

But if forced to choose between skipping a meal and a boiled/poached/fried egg, I'd absolutely wait for lunch.

Recently, however, I've been forced to start making soft-boiled eggs.  My teen daughter has taken to heart the old adage "Breakfast like a king, Lunch like a prince, Dine like a pauper" and has requested soft boiled eggs, toast, fruit, milk--essentially, a regal repast to start her day.  While I'm thrilled at her attention to health, I was less enthused by her egg selection seeing as I had no idea how to make a soft boiled egg.  But, never one to shy away from culinary tasks, and feeling confident in the kitchen, I cracked Betty Crocker's Basic Cookbook and followed directions.

The first attempts put to mind the children's story Goldilocks and the Three Bears.  Despite my vigilant attempts to time the beastly orbs, I was invariably greeted (justifiably, I readily admit) with comments from my daughter ranging from "This is too runny"  to "This is hard-boiled".

The procedure seemed simple enough:  put an egg into a saucepan of water, making sure it is covered by at least 1 inch of water.  Bring to boil  Remove from heat, and leave in hot water for three minutes.  Place in egg cup, slice off top, and consume.  My results were hit and miss, until this morning.

I grabbed a saucepan, and followed the instructions.  But I have to admit, I don't think I fully covered the egg by one inch with water.  When I removed it from the pan and cut off the top, the egg was purely liquid.  My husband suggested that I pop it into the microwave for a few seconds.  I thought that sounded genius, so I gave it a 30 second zap.

Imagine our dismay when the egg exploded in the microwave, spewing yolk and white everywhere.

I made a second attempt at my daughter's breakfast, less catastrophic in terms of the mess, but still substandard in terms of the result.  I then threw in the proverbial towel.  I told my daughter I would be pleased to make her spectacular omelets, cheesy scrambles, even poached or fried eggs every morning til the end of days.  But my soft boiled egg career is at an end.

Have you had any allegedly simple cooking tasks that you simply couldn't master?

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