E is for Egg. Sorry, all out of elephants to photograph.
Mom had an aluminum poacher, four egg cups of rounded wedges, in a brace, fitting into a pan to boil water beneath them and a lid. I thought them the most disgusting bits of alleged food ever, all congealed white goo, and the yolk hidden and watery when revealed. I could about stand the yolk of a hard boiled egg, and could even manage the white, if cold, of deviled eggs. I mostly avoided any egg not made of chocolate.
Until I moved away from home, and an acquaintance made fried eggs. I took her lesson, and found a quite edible protein source. The ex mangled eggs into grainy denatured messes, and I drew away again. In the Army, they only cook one thing well, and that's breakfast. Lots of eggs with hot sauce and salsa, and I remembered how much I liked how I used to cook them. On my own again, I lived on ramen noodles, frozen green beans and fried eggs through the lean years.
These days, I pay the little bit more for free range eggs, and I can taste the difference, and sooth my conscience a little. D makes lovely eggs, especially virtuous since he doesn't eat them usually. It's for when I get home late and I can't imagine what to eat, and I don't feel like eating, but I can manage eggs with salsa or a little Cholula sauce, since I will otherwise wake up an hour after bedtime, miserable and hungry.
I have never been able to make an omelette. I fry them. Even when out at a diner, I order them Slap in the Face†.
Red Rock makes Eggs In Purgatory. Fried in slices of french bread with spicy marinara sauce and some cheese, hash browns, bacon... I'm getting hungry.
Which came first? The egg. Because the mutation* happened in the egg of the proto-chicken hen - which was not quite a chicken yet. Likewise, there were all kinds of eggs long before there were chickens.
† Which means over hard, but does not appear in the wiki article. Which is interesting in it's own right.
* Unless you don't buy the idea of evolution, in which case you are seriously at the wrong blog.
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