Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Guest Ramble

Guest ramble tonight


    Let me start by saying I love eggs.
    Scrambled, fried, boiled, omlettes, egg salad, deviled, if it has eggs I will love it. However if I could only have one for the rest of my life it would be poached eggs on toast. There is a slight problem with my love of poached eggs. I cannot for the life of me cook the bloody things. Luckily I call Fitzroy (Melbourne, Australia) home; which happens to be the acknowledged world capital of the All-Day-Breakfast. You feel like a breaky fry up at 6pm, most cafes in my neighbourhood will happily satisfy your craving. A hard night on the town drinking too much will always end up at 5am eating a Souvlaki/Gyros/Kebab on the way home then a full cooked breakfast when you eventually wake up. This is usually the next afternoon after 4 Ibuprofens, looking like death warmed up and a short wander down to the nearest cafe.
    Today I was working from my home office when I had an urge, no, absolute craving for poached eggs. Yesterday I picked up a couple of trays of fresh farm laid eggs, all gigantic eggs with good odds for double yolkers. These are like hitting the jackpot, minimal whites and twice the yolk. Anyways, knowing there were 2 trays downstairs, I decided to cook them myself instead of heading to the local and placing an order.
    I have tried numerous times to poach eggs, using many different techniques. The small saucepan and the whirlpool method ended up with a nasty mess, using the metal 'Non-Stick' poaching insert for my saute pan did not work, nor was this non stick even after a spary of oil. Using the microwave created a brand new form of bouncing rubber I could have sold to 3M, and the cute little silicone egg cups that you float in water took forever and went from runny whites to rock hard yolks in the blink of an eye. Dont let it be said that I'm a quitter. I have tried and tried and tried.
    Sunday mornings are Family Breakfast days. My partner, her parents, her 11 siblings, their partners and the 300 neices and nephews all converge for a home cooked breakfast. Father-In-Law is an excellent breakfast cook. The man can make any breakfast food know to modern man, however is a total disaster for any other meal and is known to use every single possible item in the kitchen when he does cook. He is also THE poached egg guru. Last Sunday, after years of my begging, he taught me The Method, please note the capitals. The Method is seemingly simple. A saute pan with deep vertical sides 2 inches of water a good splash of malt vinegar, bring it to the boil and then turn the heat down as low as possible. When the water is still, but there are bubbles on the bottom crack an egg into a small shallow dish then gently slide the egg into the water. As soon as the white is set pull the egg out with the wide slotted spoon. It was like a lighting bolt from heaven. It seemed so very simple.
    So today was the day I would try The Method for myself. 6 eggs later I had the perfect Poached Egg. The white was perfectly set and the yolk like liquid gold. We just wont talk about the failures that led to this glorious, shining culinary moment. It was a double yolker as well, too bad I burned the toast and my coffee went cold.

    Phantom Rambler


Drop the phantom a line if you enjoyed the tale.

Enjoy your updates and as my mate Oz likes to say - if you read 'em, feed 'em.

Ze

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