Everybody loves my scrambled eggs. Yes, that is egotistic and narcissistic and just plain bragging, but whenever I make scrambled eggs for someone, they always indicate how tremendous they think my scrambled eggs are by smacking their lips, or by moaning softly while looking heavenward, or by making mmm and yum sounds, or by actually saying something like, “Wow, these are great scrambled eggs.”
I mentioned in a recent post that scrambled eggs was the first thing I ever asked my mother how to make. I can still hear her saying, “For each egg, add this much milk – blurp – blurp,” demonstrating a couple quick pours from the milk jug.
That was somewhere around 55 years ago, and people have been praising my scrambled eggs ever since, even though I've changed my method over the years.
I used to beat the eggs and milk with a fork and fry them in bacon grease (newly rendered or from the jar on the counter) in an iron skillet, turning them with a metal spatula.
Nowadays I use no milk, only a little water, beat the eggs with a whisk and fry them in whatever I happen to have (butter, bacon fat, sausage grease, Pam) in a non-stick pan, turning them with a rubber scraper.
And somehow they are still very good. Even without the blurp.
No comments:
Post a Comment