Eggs are by far one of my long-time favorite foods. I loved them as a child, especially when my Gramma (the beautiful woman I was named after) would scramble them and serve them with ketchup. For years my mother tried to replicate "Gramma's scrambled eggs with ketchup" (and even "Gramma's pancakes") to no avail. It wasn't until just recently, after being married to a chef and attentively (almost obsessively) listening to his tricks-of-the-trade, that I learned that Gramma's scrambled eggs must have tasted so good because of the well-seasoned skillet she used to cook them in. My word, I love me some well-seasoned skillet!
Back to the eggs, though... Even during pregnancy when I am most turned-off by common proteins (a.k.a meat aversions) I can easily turn to the delicate chicken egg to nourish my belly - unborn and all. I love scrambled eggs, hard boiled eggs, deviled eggs, fried eggs.... I have not yet tried a poached egg but I really don't think I will dislike it.
Surely you can imagine how heartbroken I was to find that my daughter (nearly 17 months old) doesn't like scrambled eggs. I don't think I've ever known a child to not like scrambled eggs. I thought it was a childhood staple of many families near and far. Of course it wasn't that surprising as her father, my husband, does not share the same passion as I for eggs. (I think his issue with eggs is more the yolk.)
Anyway, on a few occasions over the past seven months or so I have prepared scrambled eggs for my daughter.
They ended up here:
Did you hear that?..... That was my jaw falling to the floor.
(By the way, this is a picture of the area beneath my daughter's high chair. We have carpet everywhere so in an effort to protect this area of floor from food stains, I covered it with a table cloth. I got for $0.99 at Kmart sometime in June. It was huge so I cut it into two pieces: one for under the high chair, the other smaller piece for arts/crafts, floor activities, haircuts or just for when my son (nearly 8 years old) wants to eat on the floor. It has flannel on one side and plastic on the top side. I hear this is also a great idea to place on your floors flannel side up when using a birth tub. BEST INVESTMENT EVER. Just sharing.)
So, today I decided to make her a different style of egg. A fried egg. It's my first one ever. I was a little nervous that I'd pop the yolk but I didn't. See:
I used a small fry pan, butter and a silicon spatula (like for baking). I was brought up thinking that oil was better than bacon fat (says my mother about Gramma's preference, but never saw her use bacon fat, she always used butter) and then recently that butter is better than oil (says my husband chef). I think it all boils down to a matter of preference and taste though.
If I had to guess, I would say that my pan was too hot ('cause see? there's brown crispies around the edges) but overall it turned out well. The white of the egg was cooked through and the yolk was still intact and in my opinion, perfectly runny in a more thick kind of way. I tried it too. It was delicious (even the crispies). My daughter didn't think so though.
I served her egg on top of a bed of brown rice and lentils. This is only about a teaspoon worth of egg/rice/lentils that landed on the floor, so I guess this was a success, right? WRONG!
The little monster hid the rest of the egg between her leg and arm rest of the high chair!
{sigh} O-well. I'll try again in a couple months.
No comments:
Post a Comment