Monday, December 14, 2009

Eggs, Brother, and Poetry

My brother just came in--just a little jaunt down I10--L.A. to Daytona Beach, FL.

I poached eggs for him. Because I love poaching eggs. Because I love eating creamy delicious poached eggs. Because he's never had them and because everyone should try them at some point. I think.

(And because I just watched Julie and Julia! A nice movie, worthy of a relaxing evening and yummy wines and cheeses.)

To poach an egg:
Boil enough water to cover egg, add some vinegar, a splash or two. Poke a hole with a push-pin in the fat bottom of the raw egg. Boil in water for 10 seconds. Remove and crack egg open into water very close to surface. Draw egg white over egg gently with a wooden spoon, a few strokes. For a nice runny yoke, poach for 3 1/2 minutes to 4 minutes. For a harder yoke, boil for 5 minutes. (My brother prefers harder yokes.) Extract with slotted spoon and deposit nicely poached egg in a bowl of ice water, just to rinse the vinegar and to solidify the white. Remove. Cut off excess membrane if needed before serving, or it will look like an alien:


Mmmm. (Or rather: Hmmmm.)


On the down side, I'm writing a poetry final on Elizabeth Bishop whose poetry is WONDERFUL, btw. But I'm unfortunately not very good at poetry. And not at all good at writing about poetry. So my paper is four pages long currently, wishing it were much longer. How about ten pages. The length it's supposed to be. Yes. That would be nice.

They're lovely poems, though. Here's one: "The Moose." And another: "The End of March."