It's the incredible edible egg folks.

 I went through a carton of eggs and half a loaf of bread this week.  I'm at the tail end of a cold/cough and spent most of my past weekend lying on various surfaces looking as pathetic as possible. For a split second I remembered my idea of cooking something more difficult, and then decided the kitchen was simply too far away from my chair to attempt it.

 I did fry some eggs though. I put them on toast. And made cups and cups of tea.  Irish Breakfast, Orange Pekoe and Oolong. I really didn't feel that bad, just slept like shit so was tired and kept hacking up seriously nasty globs of green which looked a lot like the Grinch.

It was pretty late when my lazy ass got around to making my dinner last Saturday, but I had just checked the Stonesoup blog and she talked about all the benefits of eating eggs for breakfast then had an allegedly easy way to poach eggs. Poach eggs? Easy? What the hell?

Now I've never ever wanted to poach eggs.  I want to roast a chicken.  I want to figure out the whole cold water bath thing for cakes.  I want to pickle things.  Poaching had not made the list yet.  They seem like such a fancy thing to eat y'know? And it's a generally acknowledged fact that I'm not that classy.  Especially first thing in the morning.

But I do love me some eggs for breakfast... Scrambled, fried, toad in the hole, made into a custard for french toast.  A friend once made me soft boiled eggs. It blew my mind. The yolks were that perfect median between liquid and solid that makes an egg incredibly delicious which I'm always trying to achieve. I'd had a failed attempt with soft boiled eggs before and was told the key was to let the eggs come to room temperature before boiling them. I've been wanting to make them for myself since then but I can never ever remember to leave eggs out to warm.  I've just woken up for heavens sake, can I really be expected to wait around for eggs to un-cool? There's an hour long window after I wake where I must be fed or I turn into Trogdor and start burn-a-nating villages. No soft boiled eggs for me.

Now it's not like I've been depressed about my soft boiled egg less life...much...but I can tell you I got ridiculously excited when I ate my poached eggs last weekend. It turns out fancy folks knew something I didn't. Did you know that poached eggs have that amazing yolk-y texture that make soft boiled eggs so fantastic??? I didn't! No one told me! Suddenly all the fuss makes sense.

And the best part? The stone soup lady wasn't kidding. They're easy to make. Like stupid first thing in the morning easy. They might not look all pretty like a fancy restaurant poached eggs but who cares? You're going to scarf it down in a few minutes anyways! And lick the yolk off your fingers too.

I first ate them on buttered toast with pickled beets. The bread I get is awesome, it's this Italian bread my grocer has that's chewy textured like chiabatta but has just a hint of sourdough flavor. I've now had them with greens which is quite nice. What's better is their looks have improved (I pour the eggs into a ladle and then slowly submerge them into the simmering water and make sure it's really simmering and not boiling). But I keep eating them before I can take a picture! You'll just have to take my word for it ;-)