Thursday, May 26, 2011


Some of you know that I'm not a big fan of eggs. I pretty much only like them if I cook them myself. As I've gotten older I've been able to let that go a bit if I specify to the cook that he needs to scramble them hard. And when I say hard, I mean I'm not kidding, dry, "overcooked" and blackened. If there is anything the least bit runny about them they'll go untouched. So I rarely order eggs in a restaurant, just in case.

It took me years to even sit beside anyone who is eating a runny egg. I'd rather see an open heart transplant than watch someone crack the shell of a soft boiled egg and dip toast in the yolk. Or a sunny side up egg with the yolk gooshing all over the plate. Talk about an appetite killer. And don't get me started on brunches. Being surrounded by people gasping in ecstasy over their eggs Benedict which is nothing more than a half cooked egg with half cooked egg sauce on top makes me nauseous. I was going to post photos but I had to take a moment to settle my heaving stomach even during the image search so I opted not to.

*image too disgusting to post but picture a nasty dribbling egg right here*

So last night for dinner I thought I'd try pasta carbonara. Little did I realize that the creamy sauce in that dish is 4 eggs cooked only with the heat of the spaghetti. The gooey egg hater in me ran screaming from the kitchen and is still rocking in the fetal position in the corner. The let's-do-this adventure chef in me (who rarely visits btw) just mixed up the dish and served up practically raw eggs to my family. And you know what? It was gooood. But fresh parmesan cheese and a 1/2 pound of bacon can make anything go down easy, am I right?

You won't see me lapping up egg yolk puddles with a toast finger anytime soon (that still sounds like a scene from a horror movie) but I will make the carbonara again. Hey, it's a start...

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