I love eggs in all their guises; fried sunny-side up, over-easy, hard-boiled, soft-boiled, poached..they are all delicious. My grandmother always made eggs fried in butter for me on her old stove in Jersey City and I can still taste those crispy edges.
The odd thing is, my two older brothers detest eggs. I have always wondered how that came to be that they both harbor a vehement distaste for what I consider to be one of my favorite foods. What went awry in their eggucation?
Until this weekend, I had always thought that it was related to one of them becoming ill after having eaten eggs. My brother G. (who could not really explain his own dislike for eggs) shed some light on the matter concerning our brother E. He seemed to recall that on one particular occasion, my mother had served E. a plate of scrambled eggs which he did not want to eat . She supposedly insisted that he eat them and he said, "If you make me eat those I will throw up." He finally ate them and then proceeded to stick his fingers down his throat.. And from that day forwards, he has not touched an egg (although he will eat French toast if the egg is well-beaten and mixed with milk so as to be less noticeable).
Izzy Eats: The art of raising a gourmand, one bite at a time
Stirring tales of eating, cooking and foraging in my never-ending quest to provide, great-tasting (local and organic whenever possible) EATS for me and my boy(s).
Monday, August 13, 2007
The Wrong Eggucation
Posted by Izzy's Mama at 8/13/2007 10:17:00 PM
Labels: eating, eating lessons, kids, memoir, taste
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