Well, if there’s one thing that I learnt thanks to this damned pandemic and the lockdowns that followed, it is to make fried eggs and omelettes to my satisfaction.
I first made eggs when I was in college and I was in college at a time which many of you here might dub as the medieval period. I never stopped since then.
Yet, my yolks would often split and dash across the pan.
My omelettes would crumble when folded. Behaving the way the freshly fixed BMC roads do once the rains in Mumbai start.
The pandemic meant a year and four months, and counting, of staying at home. Including not going out to cafes for breakfast. Something that K and I loved as a couple.
Even my book was written over many breakfasts at Candies after K would leave for work.
Breakfast outings are our thing. Which is funny given that we are not morning people. All of this came to an end in April 2020.
The pandemic meant waking up and making breakfast at home every morning.
For myself. Occasionally for K.
The menu in the Finely Chopped Kitchen, like at The Bukhara or at Valibhai Payawala, was rather limited.
Fried eggs, omelettes, boiled egg salad sandwiches in this case, and if the bread was too old or if I was feeling low, the savoury French toasts of my childhood.
I’d show up in the kitchen after a shower every morning to make breakfast. Watched initially by our elder cat, Baby Loaf and later by our younger one, Little Nimki. I would feed both first thing after I woke up of course.
Guided by practise and gut, I learnt how much to heat the oil (avocado oil is what I like) while making fried eggs. How to crack the shell of the egg open. Pour out the albumen. Gently hold on to the yolk in the shell while the albumen (white) began to solidify and then plop down the yolk with lots of TLC; tender, love and care.
Planning is key and I learnt to toast bread while the egg got ready for breakfast. I’d then sprinkle salt on the egg followed by black pepper. Occasionally local spices such as podi or East Indian masala go on to my fried eggs. I use 2 small ladles to take out the egg and slide it onto the plate with a song and a prayer. The yolk might still burst at this stage but with time and practise, that’s reducing. We use free range eggs and there are times when the yolk might misbehave before I take it out of the shell and not form. That’s taught me the virtue of acceptance.
Daily practise and love.
That sums up my fried egg technique.
Sums up how I approach my writing too. To show up everyday and write. About things that mean a lot to me. Like fried eggs. And breakfast.
I wrote this post at the breakfast table, while sipping my espresso and after polishing off my eggs and (Magstreet Kitchen sourdough) toast.
Till a calendar reminder flashed to tell me I had a work call to attend.
Tell me. What did you learn out of this pandemic. I am sure there’s something even if you think so otherwise.
Writing on any subject is not an easy task, when you write on any subject it is very difficult. Anyone who thinks that he will write something easily on any subject, then his thinking is very wrong, I do not know that perhaps those people will have to put so much mind. Whatever you have written in your post, it has been written very beautifully, you are a person writing a good post, the more you are praised, the less it is.
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