Poached Eggs

5th February 2016

Metaphors are handy things that many people have used to describe their life situations and points of view. Robert Frost used the whole diverging roads thing, and how he could only choose one so he chose the road less travelled by. Temple Grandin compared her brain to Google Images because of her visual way of thinking. And then there's Katy Perry who likens herself (and every downtrodden listener) to a firework. 

Now, I'm not an accomplished poet; or an influential animal science professor; or a babe-alicious popstar. But for those of you who are interested; my life metaphor of choice is the recipe for poached eggs (hence the blog title “Poached Meggs”). You see, for every major decision I have made in my short life; I have calculated, and estimated, and followed the necessary protocols to ensure that I am not going to end up in a hole or something.

Reader: “Goodness me, how responsible you seem.” 

Meg: “Thank you, reader. I do try.”

If you're clever enough (and I have no doubt that you are); you should be able to draw the parallels between the step-by-step list below and life as we know it.

Step One 

Fill medium sized saucepan to half full (or half empty) with water (tap water is fine, just to clarify). Light stove, place half full/half empty saucepan of water on top of lit stove, and bring water to boil.

Step Two

Stir some vinegar into the boiling water. Preferably white vinegar, but if there's some apple cider vinegar in the pantry you can use that too. I wouldn't suggest balsamic vinegar; but hey, they’re your eggs and I'm not one to force my vinegar views on anyone.

Step Three 

Bring the boiling water-vinegar-concoction down to a vigorous simmer. Crack eggs and pour each whitey, yolky blob of chicken goop into mentioned concoction.

Now, Step Three is the part where most people freak out. Or at least I, Meg, freak out. Because from the moment that chicken goop leaves the eggshell and hits the very hot liquid: you have no control over how those eggs turn out. Will one of them stick to the bottom of the saucepan leaving you incapable of scooping the egg out in one piece? Will the white properly seal around the yolk or will a little bit of water seep in leaving you with a watery egg that will inevitably soak your perfectly buttered toast? Will they cook too quickly; leaving you with hard-boiled poached eggs? (No offense meant towards the hard-boilers, I just prefer gooey). Or will they not be cooked enough? (Despite the fact that you have left them in for the exact amount of time Google told you to, you even used an egg timer). And then there are all of the variables surrounding the eggpidemic. Like toasting the bread and leaving just enough buttering time so the toast will still be hot when you scoop out your, hopefully, perfectly viscous masterpieces. And then there's the blanched spinach, but we won't go into that just now.

Step Four 

Let the eggs sit in there until you think they are the consistency you desire.

During this waiting time, there will be immense tension due to the possibilities I mentioned in Step Three. Know now that bits of egg white will float to the surface and morph into this foamy looking stuff. You will lose vision of your eggs and it may appear all is lost, but push through. Take deep breaths, repeat a self-affirming mantra, and then, assuming all goes well, use one of those big, holey spoons to ladle the poached eggs out from the very hot blood-bath of egg white foam, and onto whatever else you're serving them with. (I would suggest smoked salmon, spinach, and hollandaise sauce.)

Step Five 

Enjoy your eggs knowing they are a product of your own independence and perseverance. And if your eggs have not turned out the way you wanted them to: it’s okay because Woolworths has a seemingly unlimited supply of eggs (trust me, I work there). So you can just try again whenever you’re ready. I should also mention that what a perfectly poached egg is to one is totally unpalatable to another.