A Love Letter to Eggs

Hey Eggs! (or Huevos as I so affectionately like to call you — our secret pet name if you will)–

Because you deserve it, I thought I would remind you again how delicious you are.  You’re so versatile and dynamic — like the Meryl Streep of the culinary world.  You are delicious boiled, poached, fried, scrambled, and maybe even coddled (I don’t really know — we haven’t gotten to that stage in our relationship yet).   I know there was that awkward time during the Iran-Contra scandal when everyone thought you were evil (cholesterol was misunderstood then), but I was 2, so don’t count me as part of that faction.

You’re basically my favorite food on every level — I love quiches, huevos rancheros, and egg salad is the best kind of salad in the mayonnaise world.   And have you ever had an egg in the basket?  Well, probably not because that would be a bit cannibalistic, but let me tell you — they are delicious.  It’s toast with an egg over easy inside — don’t have to bother with egg sopping — it’s already built in.

But really, truly, eggs remind me of home.

Eggs remind me of bacon grease in the Smucker’s jar, being poured into the skillet before getting fried up.

Eggs remind me of that little contraption used for boiling the water under the poached eggs.  And how they always came out perfect.

And how no matter how many ways you try it, it’s never going to taste just the same as the ones from home.

Because they were made with love and bacon grease.

7 thoughts on “A Love Letter to Eggs

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