Like my father before me, I'm addicted to eggs. Scrambled, fried, over-easy .... you name it!
Oh sure, there was a time I'd make faces and impolite noises in the direction of his breakfast plate. If my eggs weren't hard-boiled or scrambled to the consistency of an overly-chewed piece of gum, I wasn't interested.
... Which begs the question: Have you ever developed a taste for something you once loathed?
My minister once told how she'd been taught that the body's cells replicate themselves every 7 years. So, if you happened to hate runny eggs 'back when' you might enjoy them now. (No, I never bothered to check the authenticity of this 'replication' business!)
My father was a sly sort. Given my gullible nature, he tried to convince me that the milk delivered in dark brown bottles was sweeter than the clear variety ...
and eating a soft-boiled egg from my little ceramic egg cup would transform its taste.
Cute, but I wasn't having any.
Only in the last few years has my curiosity come around.
One afternoon boredom spurred me to try my hand at making a perfect 'over-easy' egg.
...And what's a girl to do but eat her mistakes? Personally, I like mine perched atop a slice of pizza pie!
Now, wouldn't you know, it's DH's turn to make faces. It almost breaks my heart that he refuses to eat scrambled eggs stirred in his chili. Then again, he never had the good fortune to live in West Texas. (smile .... and apologies to Jon!)
No. Overall, Tom's been a good sport, and claims to enjoy the Pinterest-inspired eggs I 'hard boil' in the oven.
I'm still working to perfect a microwave poached egg -- but he ate most of my attempts this morning without issue. Sort of.
When I offered to tweak the formula next time, he asked, "What makes you think there's going to be a 'next time'?" LOL!
Truth be told, I'm growing weary of my 'desktop omelets' and would love to produce something fun without it exploding in the office microwave!
.... and hugs from Phoenix!