This morning we made soft boiled eggs. I used to have these sometimes as a child. My mom had special egg cups... does anyone have egg cups anymore? Does anyone eat soft boiled eggs anymore? Have we all been cowed by the FDA, scared into never again enjoying the creamy, yolky goodness dripping off our toast soldiers?
If the FDA had their way, we'd all be eating our filet mignon well done, and our carbonara pasty and glutenous. There would be no sashimi, no sushi, no chocolate lava cake. Every burger an arid frisbee and every egg a rubbery disk.
Now, I'm not trying to be some sort of commie pinko raw diet fanatic. I understand germs, foodborne illnesses, parasites and salmonella. I've even had food poisoning once or twice (although never, I should say, from anything I've mentioned. Fizolli's tried to kill me with chicken parmasean once, and Taco Bell with a chicken quesadilla.) I understand that there are people who eat raw chicken, and that really skeeves me out. I actually wear non-latex gloves to clean chicken, and am diligent about guarding against cross contamination with knives, cutting boards, cooking utensils, the sink and the counter in general, as well as marinades.
To be honest, I do these things with pork and beef, too (not the gloves).
I'm just saying we maybe took a good idea a little too far. The sight of all those asterisks in the menu condemning me to death if I don't order it burnt, well... it makes me irritated. Inform me that my coffee is hot, and I thank you. Warn me in big letters on the side of my cup that the beverage I'm about to enjoy could scald and disfigure me if I pour it on my crotch? I don't feel so thankful anymore.
And so this morning I ate my soft boiled eggs and loved them. So HA.
On an unrelated note, we drove past an old meat market today and were excited to see a big sign proclaiming it would soon be a Jamaican and Carribean restaurant. Wooooo-hooooo! We had to turn the car around and buzz it again, just to be sure. I don't know when it will open but I can't wait.
Tonight we made pad thai. Or, rather, Darling Husband made it, and I sous cheffed when I could, in between feeding our beautiful daughter a hippie combo of squash, apple, prune and barley. Chicken, tamarind, ginger, garlic, soy, egg, sugar, szechuan peppercorns, peanuts, fish sauce, sambol olek, cellophane noodles, sprouts and a squeeze of fresh lime. The kitchen smells awesome, hours later. It was lovely, although I can't take any credit for it. Pad thai is the sort of dish I don't quite understand, in that I can't instinctively know what goes in it. We briefly watched the Good Eats pad thai episode that we had TiVo'd, but we had already gone shopping and had the dish pretty much set. I admit, it makes us arrogant to turn off the tv and say, "ours will be better." Yet, while I couldn't eat Alton Brown's, I could eat ours. And it was yummy with a squeeze of lime.