Well, Memorial Day is going pretty well, and naturally I have some thoughts regarding poached eggs.

Here’s a strange breakfast stir-fry I made today, featuring a poached egg. It was made of seemingly disconnected things I had around (smoked kielbasa, queso fresca, asparagus, garbanzo beans, shallot & balsamic vinegar). It looked like hell, but it was food.

I’ve never particularly given a crap about poached eggs. I have plenty of crap to give to plenty of egg, but there were only a couple left for poached eggs. Then I became annoyed with how the world all screamed with excitement at the same time regarding poached eggs. I didn’t think it was such a problem except for it was maligning the fried egg, and not letting it have enough time in the sun. Fried eggs look like suns and taste like butter; poached eggs look like deep sea creatures and taste like water. I didn’t want people moving along to something so strange, so quickly.

Here’s a picture of the sturdy and unassuming fried egg, atop a waffle & covered in hollandaise. I know. You can’t really see it. I promise it’s there, lending a hand to flavor. This is what we ate for Thanksgiving last year.

If you can’t tell where this is going: As of now, I like poached eggs. My friend loaned me Mind of a Chef, and I watched David Chang pierce poached egg after poached egg with a paring knife, and I got excited about it every time. Also, he’s poaching an egg INSIDE THE SHELL (see: devil magic) in a warm water-bath, so he can crack the shell, and out comes a beautiful, slimy oval of joy.

I was feeling too hungry to set up a water bath, so I got a pot of water a-boiling and cracked an egg in there. It was satisfying to eat, and loads of fun.

I don’t like the way poached eggs taste more than fried eggs , however I like them because they can bleed all over your other food while you eat. They sit wherever you’ve perched them on the plate, and peacefully ooze throughout the meal.

I think this is fun.

When else do you get a little constant sauce dispenser during your meal? Imagine how many salads you could sell if you put the dressing inside a poached-egg type structure, and people could slowly have ranch dressing ooze onto their greens as they ate?

I know that sounds freaky, but this might be my million dollar moment.

 

Regarding the picture above: I wish more people would post pictures of half-eaten food. That should be my next blog: Half-Clean Plate Club. You can learn a lot about food at the half-way stage.

And because I’m so full of good spirits for the holiday, I asked my poet-friend Vicky Tuckville to share her thoughts on poached eggs.