I’m an expert cook. Who says? Me!
I can cook anything. Moose? I’ll do a moose mousse. Pig? A pit I’ll dig. Squab? Give me a kibab.
Boil an egg. Please, don’t insult me. I can boil water and I can boil an egg, thank you very much.
Hard boiled or soft boiled? I can calculate the time to within a nanosecond of perfection. Hah! Egg, bring it on.
So I thought.
Egg Number 1.
Ever the consummate expert I prepared the landscape: Canadian bacon in the microwave to heat up, crumpets in the toaster to toast. Boiled egg with Canadian bacon on crumpet…yum-o! What’s not to like?
The crumpets popped up right on cue as the microwave beeped and and the stove timer chirped that the egg was done.
Taking the egg to the sink all looked right with the world. The crumpets were brown and warm, the Canadian bacon at the right temperature and, sure enough, the egg was cooked to perfection.
Carefully, I broke the shell on the edge of the sink and worked the shell off. I nearly had the egg shelled when…
Then, without warning, a furry paw reached around, snagged the egg and pulled it out of my hands.
“No!” I shouted, but it was too late! The egg and Kink’s furry paw fell to the floor in a yellow and white splatter on the tile. Kink proceeded to lick up his kill and I entertained thoughts of killing.
Egg number 2.
Undaunted, I left Kink to his ill-gotten gains and pulled another egg out of the fridge. Come on, I’ve cooked chocolate soufflés and Moose mousses. What could be difficult about a boiled egg? I placed the egg in the pan of water, turned up the heat and let it go. Meanwhile, Kink was licking the kitchen tiles. Good for you, Kink, point to you. Kink 1, Egg 0.
Bang! What bang? There was a bang, a clank and a fire. Soon I realized that the egg in the pot had exploded and blasted egg white and yoke all over the stove. I looked in the pot and the eggshell was empty. The egg had inverted itself and was a slimy mess.
Egg number 3.
I will not be defeated by an egg. I’m an expert cook. I’m a pro. Boiling an egg is like the most elementary of dishes.
I can boil an egg.
I cleaned out the pot, filled it with water, selected a nice, free range, brown egg and set the timer. Boil, boil it went. Tick tock went the timer.
Egg done and a perfectly cooked egg if I must say so myself. Smugly, I cracked the shell on the sink and proceeded to unwrap my lunch treasure.
Purple spots. Wha? There were purple spots on my egg! No, purple spots shouldn’t be on eggs. I examined the spots closely and in the end decided it wasn’t worth the risk to eat the egg.
You know, I’ve gone off the whole idea of eating altogether. Just as well. I could use losing a few pounds.