What's the secret to coming out with perfect, fluffy scrambled eggs every time? Have me do it.
I love scrambled eggs. I love that something so delicious and satisfying, such a perfectly-realized food, can be so simple. So easy to do. Plato believed that it was impossible for perfection to be realized within the tangible world. I would like to serve him a plate of my scrambled eggs!
I love cracking a succession of eggs into a bowl one after the other, one-handed, without getting a particle of shell in or breaking one single yolk. I always feel a little bit wistful when I see all those perfect yolks floating in the bowl. "You guys should be fried eggs," I say. But I go in nonetheless and I break them up with a fork, pouring in the milk as I whisk and stir, whisk and stir.
My single favorite moment of the process is lifting the bowl over the stove, still whisking with the fork, and pouring the egg mixture out into the lightly-buttered pan to that gratifying sound - a soft hiss and a sizzle - of egg hitting hot pan and spreading out.
The greatest thing about it is, anybody can do it! I don't claim any special gift. I don't say I never get a piece of shell in the bowl. I'm not perfect. If I get a little speck of shell in there, I pick it out.
I do kind of wish I had some orange juice, though. I tend to fail to plan ahead, and then find I don't have all the accompaniments on hand.
I love scrambled eggs. I love that something so delicious and satisfying, such a perfectly-realized food, can be so simple. So easy to do. Plato believed that it was impossible for perfection to be realized within the tangible world. I would like to serve him a plate of my scrambled eggs!
I love cracking a succession of eggs into a bowl one after the other, one-handed, without getting a particle of shell in or breaking one single yolk. I always feel a little bit wistful when I see all those perfect yolks floating in the bowl. "You guys should be fried eggs," I say. But I go in nonetheless and I break them up with a fork, pouring in the milk as I whisk and stir, whisk and stir.
My single favorite moment of the process is lifting the bowl over the stove, still whisking with the fork, and pouring the egg mixture out into the lightly-buttered pan to that gratifying sound - a soft hiss and a sizzle - of egg hitting hot pan and spreading out.
The greatest thing about it is, anybody can do it! I don't claim any special gift. I don't say I never get a piece of shell in the bowl. I'm not perfect. If I get a little speck of shell in there, I pick it out.
I do kind of wish I had some orange juice, though. I tend to fail to plan ahead, and then find I don't have all the accompaniments on hand.
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