Eggs fit ever so seamlessly into our Saturday lunch menus. Which are generally eggs, beans and toast. This makes an ideal weekend meal because there is nothing to think about, all ingredients are nearly always on-hand.
This past Saturday, Izzy decided he wanted to veer from the usual sunny-side down eggs and he made a special request for a poached egg, like Frances. Now I believe Frances sang about soft-boiled eggs (and I am too lazy to go upstairs to check) and he agreed that what he really wanted was, "The egg in the egg".
Some "eggsperimentation" was clearly in order. So I soft-boiled an egg for Izzy, I poached an egg for myself and I scrambled some eggs for Izzy's papa who seemed repulsed by the other two types.
Izzy was unexpectedly smitten with his lovely, orangy, soft-boiled egg. I think it was extra-delicious as it was only quite recently plucked from an Amish chicken (thanks to Abner and my dairy connection). Although he had to make do with a shot glass this time, I foresee a need for some egg cups in our future, don't you?
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