My husband is known for his quick wit. He has a joke or a story for any occasion. One of his more memorable funny lines has been part of the repertoire for so long I don’t remember its actual debut. The most likely scenario, based on repeat performances, goes something like this: A group of people are sitting together, at a potluck or a family dinner. I am in another room, washing dishes or visiting with another part of the group. Hubby appears in the room, coffee cup in hand and a friend or relative in tow, and asks, loudly enough for the rest of the group to hear, “Honey, why did I marry you?” Without missing a wipe of the dishcloth, I deadpan the comeback, “My cooking.”
At this point the “audience” is cracked up, shaking their heads, laughing, one or two commenting that they always did feel a little sorry for me. A few of the guys along the years have probably worked that little “funny” into their own family dinner routine at least once (maybe more often if the wife decides to play along rather than feed him cold potted meat sandwiches for the next week).
Want to know a secret?
He’s serious. Remember that old saying, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”? That really works at my house. My husband loves to eat. I love to cook. A match made in Heaven! Mr. Comedy has often said that if he had learned to cook he wouldn’t have needed a wife.
Houston, we may have a problem.
The favored egg at our house is over easy. My mama and my grandma used to cook just the yolks for me, which worked out really well since my sister only liked the whites. I like my yolks runny, with toast. I was married before I knew there was a name for eggs with runny yolks. For all the cooking I have done over the years, I have never mastered the over easy egg. Invariably, I either break the yolk or try, like my mama, to splash the grease over them in the skillet and end up with pretty red splotches from splashing myself, or eggs that are neither “over” nor “easy.” I finally found my answer with a new set of cookware, which came with a recipe for cooking our eggs without grease or flipping. As long as I don’t get distracted by the toast or the breakfast meat, I can make a decent egg.
A couple of weeks ago, on his day off, hubby wanted to know how I keep eggs from sticking in the pan. “I just put a little butter in the bottom of the pan, hon… why?”
“I just don’t think an over easy egg would be that difficult… I think I’m going to try one.” I must confess, my first thought was, “this from the guy who cooks omelets in a zipper baggie.” Don’t get me wrong… those omelets are amazing. They’re as pretty and tasty as anything I could make in a pan, and cleanup is a breeze. But, continuing my thoughts, “there’s a big difference between boiling an omelet in a baggie and cooking an egg in a pan.” I was headed out the door when he pulled my best, and biggest, non-stick skillet from the dish drainer and wished me a good day. I had just arrived at my destination when I received a text announcing success, with these words (emphasis his): “those eggs were RESTAURANT quality!” The next morning, he pulled out the skillet again and asked, “want an egg?”
I must confess, that egg was pretty tasty. Actually, that egg was pretty and tasty.
The next time the skillet came out, hubby had an audience. I wanted to see how a man who proudly claims he can’t cook so quickly achieved something that eludes me after over three decades of wedded culinary bliss. He confirmed what I suspected all along; the secret is in the flip. Like an old pro, he positioned the spatula under the egg and, with a quick flip of the wrist, the egg was upside down with no runs, no drips, and no errors. I shook my head; for him, an over easy egg really isn’t that difficult. As he handed me a plate and continued to cook his own egg, he said, “This pan is too big, isn’t it? I need an egg pan. Are pans expensive?”
A few days later, we stood in the kitchenware aisle of a local department store looking at skillets. He could see first-hand that “egg pans” come in all sizes, both in circumference and cost. I quickly dismissed a first-pick 8-inch skillet as too cheaply made. I had nearly sold him on a two-pack of the new ceramic finish skillets I’d been wanting to try when I found a three-pack of skillets from the same manufacturer of a favorite skillet I own and use regularly. I was amazed at the reasonable price of the three-pack and quickly said, “Look… we can get three skillets that I know will be good quality. You get your egg pan, and I can get rid of a couple of old cheap skillets that needed to go a long time ago.” He quickly agreed and the three-pack went into the cart. Mission accomplished, I was already thinking ahead to the next item on the shopping list when I heard, “Look at this!” I turned to see him pointing to a 4.5-inch skillet. “This one is made especially for eggs!” Indeed, the packaging declared this skillet as the “one egg wonder.” I shook my head. “You can’t get a spatula into that skillet to turn the egg, hon,” to which he replied, “I wouldn’t have to use a spatula… I could flip it with the skillet!”
As we stood at the checkout, the clerk picked up the “one egg wonder” and said, “Now, that’s a little skillet.” Hubby told the clerk he wanted to see if the pan lived up to the claim. “Anything advertised as a wonder usually isn’t,” I quipped. After a good laugh, we headed home with our new pans and a fresh supply of eggs. We were barely in the door when hubby took his little pan out of the bag and cracked an egg. He flipped that egg in the skillet without a spatula, just as he predicted in the store. Pretty awesome for a first attempt.
This morning, as usually happens at our house on a day off, we had a full breakfast. I made bacon, ham, and potatoes and then, for the first time in history, called hubby to the kitchen to make eggs while I made toast. He used the new 8-inch skillet for the first time. The eggs were good, but he just wasn’t satisfied with the result. I was finishing this blog entry when I heard noises in the kitchen. “What are you doing?” I asked. The answer came on a plate; he had cooked an egg with the “one egg wonder” for comparison.
Thankfully, he doesn’t know how to cook crow. I’d much rather have chicken for lunch.