I sent a text: We are having scramblers sunday tea 6.30. Want to join us? BYOE.
Eggs are delicious in so many ways. When I was at school I had two (soft-boiled) eggs every morning with one piece of toast. On Sunday teas we almost always had scrambled eggs on toast. The Bird Man's favourite cafe food is Eggs Benedict.
Eggs add exquisite thickness to custard and zabaglione and will homogenise butter when beaten in, trapping air and creating lightness and richness to flour-based breads (ie cakes). Then there's the pavlova and cheese soufflé, nougat and turkish delight... heavenly!
There's something very primal for me about my reaction to an egg.
I can feel the texture with my memory's fingertips right now. Matt, smooth, slightly oily surface. By just looking at an egg, I can almost feel it in my hand... rounded, cool, heavy, precious... My hand Knows Egg.
It probably goes back to the dawn of primate conciousness.
Eggs are very handy. A portable, defendable, waterproof parcel of protein and fat. In spring they are relatively easy to acquire for a climbing, sharp-eyed binocular creature with opposable thumbs, and that's a time when seeds and nuts have yet to be produced, and meat is warily skinny. The previous long winter has made food especially precious ~ eggs make the difference between life and death. I think they must be in our genes.
Traditional designs from Romania.