Speaking of eggs, for almost 10 years now, since my Crohn's onset led me to the Specific Carbohydrate Diet, my love for the humble egg has been ardent and, you'll pardon the pun, unbroken: most every morning I enjoy two of them, almost always scrambled, almost always folded over some kind of cheese and fashioned into something omelet-ish.
Obviously, yesterday's masterpiece would have been difficult to pull off with either of the main players in an omelet. So why this great (small) change? Because in my travels this winter, I visited an old friend who is rather healthier-minded than I; he made us each a couple of four-minute eggs for breakfast, and—surprise!—they were delightful.*
I have made certain adjustments, as I am wont to do: the addition of a curved dish which shows off the egg to better advantage; the subtraction of one of the eggs. (A lady of a certain age has, as nature well knows, little need of multiple eggs.) But it is almost a perfect breakfast for me now—so much so that I wonder how long I might have been forcing the old one out of habit, out of speed, out of willfulness.
It never ceases to amaze me, the valuable data to be mined in these small spaces, so easily overlooked.
*Which, now that I think of it, some other dear friends who hosted me in Portland a few years back also made for me, and which I loved back then, as well. I guess it takes me a while to wake up to things. No pun intended.
This is Day 7 of a 21-day series. For more scoop on the who/what/why, go here.