healthy eating

My perfectly hard boiled egg

I’ll admit it. I have Googled more than once, “how to boil an egg”.   There are just some things in life that are so simple, they must be done right.  I must know the best way to get it done.  Oddly enough, Martha Stewart’s instructions are featured first in my Google search results.  Her 2-step system seems simple enough and she even provides you with a video! (And in related news to the right, you can learn how to PEEL the damn thing!)

Silky, smooth perfection.

Silky, smooth perfection.

Indeed, it can’t be THAT hard to boil and egg, but you wouldn’t need a video on how to peel it if it was boiled correctly to begin with.  Here’s the thing: a perfectly boiled egg, not unlike a perfect cut of filet mignon lightly seasoned and seared to melt-in-your-mouth perfection, will practically slip right out of its shell, once cracked.  Personally, I gently roll the egg between my hands while applying just enough pressure to crack it and free it from its bondage.  I’m not gonna lie…from the first crack I know if it’s been boiled perfectly.  I just know.  I can FEEL it.  The excitement I get around 10 am in my office when it’s time for my mid-morning snack, that would be said hard boiled eggs, is like winning $1 off a $1 scratch ticket (I’m not hard to please – I like getting my money back).

I try to enjoy every little bite of protein that’s packed into those egg whites.  Which is why it displeases me IMMENSELY if my eggs aren’t boiled to silky smooth perfection!

Imagine, for a minute, that you’re getting ready for your daily hard boiled egg ritual while you’re at work.  You’re humming along to your favorite guilty pleasure pop beat and getting your space all prepared.  Napkin for the pre-peeled eggs.  Napkin for the post-peeled eggs.  Tiny salt packet.  Tiny pepper packet.  Perhaps some cayenne pepper or hot sauce that you keep in your top drawer under lock and key for nobody to steal.  You take that first egg out of the zip lock sandwich baggie and begin to roll that bad boy between your hands.  Adding pressure.  Then a little more pressure.  Then, in an act of denial, just a little bit more pressure to welcome that little egg’s goodness into the world and out of it’s shell.  But you stop. You can’t.  You freeze and stare at it in complete and utter disbelief.  Because you finally realize the truth.  The truth that no matter how hard you press, it’s just not happening.

Now you know.  The humming stops.  You slouch back into your seat.  Holding back tears of frustration as you come to grips with the hard fact that you are about to lose 20, maybe 30%, of your protein packed egg white to the egg peel that it’s stuck to.  And for what?!  Because it wasn’t boiled correctly?!  You try to think back.  Where did I go wrong?  Was the temperature on my conventional stove top not quite on medium?  Was there enough water to cover the eggs by exactly 1″? Do I need new pots?  Will my second egg be just the same? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!

Fortunately, there are nothing BUT simple answers.  You’re just going to have to salvage what you can and live to see another day…or go to the cafeteria and get a new egg cooked by someone else because SOMEHOW they always come out right.  Jerks.

The message is from the Man of the house, not the eggs.  They couldn't care less about my day.  They're dead.  :)

The message is from the Man of the house, not the eggs. They couldn’t care less about my day. They’re dead.

PS: If you thought this was going to be about something deeper than a hard boiled egg, I’m sorry if I disappointed you.  😉  #sorrynotsorry

Advertisements

The things I do for work – Part 2

If it’s not one thing, it’s another.  You may or may not be able to tell from my last post that I don’t mind doing little side “jobs” for my boss(es) because at this point in my life at the office, it actually keeps things interesting.  Yesterday was no exception.  

THE OATMEAL INCIDENT:  So, I get a call in the morning from the boss and it goes like this:

Boss: Have you been to the cafeteria yet?
Considering his past requests, this is a new one, so i’m unsure how to respond with anything other than the truth.
Me: Um, yes?
Boss: Oh….I was going to ask if you could get me some oatmeal if you hadn’t gone down yet…..
I’m pretty sure this is still a request to get breakfast for him, so I give in.
Me: I can still get that for you.
Boss: Oh, can you? Great! I can give you some money and then you can take the $1.25 out that I owe you from the soda that you got me yesterday.

I can’t help but smile because, quite frankly, I had already forgotten about the $1.25 and, since there was no additional comment about the soda, that probably means it DIDN’T explode like I thought it would.  So, I mosey into his office, get the money, asked if he wanted a large or small size – he wants small and he adds that he wants a scoop of brown sugar.  Off I go to the cafe.  

As i’m getting his oatmeal a co-worker starts chatting me up.  The conversation wasn’t anything deep, but i’m so ADD that I turn on the autopilot for the oatmeal task and focus on the conversation.  Blah, blah, blah, healthy eating, blah, blah, blah (healthy eating being the topic of lots of conversations in the cafeteria for me, but that’s another post for another day).  In my attempt at multi-tasking, I suddenly realize that I am no longer scooping large spoonfuls of lumpy oatmeal into the small cup.  No, sir, I’ve made it over to the “toppings” section of the cafe where i’m scooping rather large spoonfuls of brown sugar onto the oatmeal.  Once I realized, it was kind of too late.  Conversation – OVER!!  I put down the spoon of brown sugar that I was ready to drop in, and I examined the bowl to decide whether I would toss that one and make a new one or scoop some of the sugar out or just take it to him the way it is.  

To put things in perspective, this is the same man that happened to be making his tea at the same time that I made my coffee and when he saw me put 3 packets of Splenda in my coffee, he about had a heart attack.  “3 packets? WWWWWWOW!  Do you know what that is? Have you heard of the health risks behind using so much of it? How does it make you feel?” and it kind of went on and on as he schooled me on Splenda.  To this day, I only use one packet in my coffee which may or may not have anything to do with the conversation we had and cutting down to one packet didn’t happen overnight.  

Anyway, so to put so much brown sugar in his oatmeal, just made me dread and wonder what kind of lecture I was going to receive.  I didn’t want to waste the oatmeal, so I attempted to scoop some of the brown sugar out before it melted into molasses.  I think I succeeded, somewhat, but this is still definitely way more than he ever uses on a regular basis.  

Image

So, again, i’m troubled with the question, ‘How do I tell him that there might be TOO much sugar in it?’  I hate making mistakes, like anyone else, so it bothered me that I haphazardly made his breakfast.  Oh well.  He’ll either like it or he won’t like it.  I paid for the oatmeal, took out my $1.25 from the change, and made my way upstairs before it got cold.  I told him that I hoped that it wasn’t too much sugar, he thanked me and that was that.  He ended up leaving early because he wasn’t feeling well – hopefully the oversugar’ed oatmeal didn’t have anything to do with that sickening feeling.  *sigh*

And I know what you’re thinking, the answer is no, even if I made it wrong it will not stop him from asking me again in the future.  I’ll just accept my pleasant lecture on how he actually likes it, and make it right the next time.  😉