I don't usually spend tons of effort on breakfast, what with getting up early in the morning (with occasionally hilarious results) and trying to get to work with as little fuss as possible. Most of the time, I just have a glass of milk or a cup of coffee to go with some sort of carbs. Some days, that's a reheated waffle. Other days, that's a slice of bread or toast. Either way, it's a pretty simple meal.
As a result, I usually find it a treat to have anything more substantial for breakfast. Let's say the Mild Wife and I are out for breakfast or brunch. I'm going to take full advantage of the menu, and I'm going to order something a little bit more elaborate than toast (side note: French toast is usually near the bottom of my list). If it has chorizo, bacon, tortillas, or eggs, then I'm definitely going to take a second look at the item in question.
In fact, eggs are pretty high on my list. I know that, all things considered, it's not a particularly exotic dish, but it's still one of my favorites. In fact, I order scrambles of any sort and huevos rancheros quite often. Like I said, I like to spice it up when I'm not just trying to get ready for work. The Mild Wife knows this, so she's very sweet about making eggs whenever we have the opportunity (I'm a lucky man).
However, therein lies the rub: we like our eggs differently. The Mild Wife prefers her eggs more on the runny side (i.e., over easy), whereas I like my yolk solid (i.e., over hard). We're both happy to eat eggs the other way, but we still have our preferences. If you give me a choice between eggs cooked one way or the other, I'm picking the solid yolk. That's just how I like it.
The amusing bit of all of this comes if the Mild Wife happens to be cooking eggs. She likes her eggs over easy, so that's what she naturally does out of muscle memory. In fact, if you just asked her to fry up some eggs, that's probably what would come out. If she knows that I'm going to eat those eggs, on the other hand, she's going to have a bit of a mental debate about the right time to turn off the flame. She's actually told me that she's mentally told herself, "no, no, not yet. Leave them on for longer" when she's prepped brunch for the two of us.
Mind you, this works both ways. I usually have to tell myself the opposite: I have to force myself to take the eggs out faster than I'm used to. It feels a bit like intentionally making myself trigger happy, and I'm constantly debating with myself whether the eggs are cooked enough yet. I imagine if someone were to watch me, my hand would be twitching and I'd be keeping an eagle eye on the stove.
Who knew that eggs would be the source of such comedy?
As a result, I usually find it a treat to have anything more substantial for breakfast. Let's say the Mild Wife and I are out for breakfast or brunch. I'm going to take full advantage of the menu, and I'm going to order something a little bit more elaborate than toast (side note: French toast is usually near the bottom of my list). If it has chorizo, bacon, tortillas, or eggs, then I'm definitely going to take a second look at the item in question.
In fact, eggs are pretty high on my list. I know that, all things considered, it's not a particularly exotic dish, but it's still one of my favorites. In fact, I order scrambles of any sort and huevos rancheros quite often. Like I said, I like to spice it up when I'm not just trying to get ready for work. The Mild Wife knows this, so she's very sweet about making eggs whenever we have the opportunity (I'm a lucky man).
However, therein lies the rub: we like our eggs differently. The Mild Wife prefers her eggs more on the runny side (i.e., over easy), whereas I like my yolk solid (i.e., over hard). We're both happy to eat eggs the other way, but we still have our preferences. If you give me a choice between eggs cooked one way or the other, I'm picking the solid yolk. That's just how I like it.
The amusing bit of all of this comes if the Mild Wife happens to be cooking eggs. She likes her eggs over easy, so that's what she naturally does out of muscle memory. In fact, if you just asked her to fry up some eggs, that's probably what would come out. If she knows that I'm going to eat those eggs, on the other hand, she's going to have a bit of a mental debate about the right time to turn off the flame. She's actually told me that she's mentally told herself, "no, no, not yet. Leave them on for longer" when she's prepped brunch for the two of us.
Mind you, this works both ways. I usually have to tell myself the opposite: I have to force myself to take the eggs out faster than I'm used to. It feels a bit like intentionally making myself trigger happy, and I'm constantly debating with myself whether the eggs are cooked enough yet. I imagine if someone were to watch me, my hand would be twitching and I'd be keeping an eagle eye on the stove.
Who knew that eggs would be the source of such comedy?
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