Learning to Love the Fried Egg

I grew up not eating eggs. Scrambled eggs were literally the only way I would consume them. No deviled eggs, no sunny side up, no egg salad, no nothing. I suppose it was a texture thing (the runniness) and a smell thing (the sulfur odor).

My mother would often cook my grandfather fried eggs at the end of a long Sunday visit. She’d spend the day cooking and cleaning, on her day off no less, and still found time to stand over the stove, though somewhat harried by that point, and fry him an egg. I always wondered why someone would eat something that looked like it belonged in my Little Tykes kitchen set. Now that I’m older and wiser, I can clearly see why the fried egg is so popular. It’s quick, it’s easy and when done well, it’s delicious.

Up until this year, I still continued to ride the scrambled egg train. Then I moved to New York and had to find quick and easy things to cook for myself and my better half with specific opinions on foods. I learned to make an over easy egg. Then I learned to enjoy it.

Today I made an open-faced fried egg sandwich- seasoned with rosemary, topped with pan-seared tomatoes, a slice of white onion, spring salad mix, provolone cheese, bacon and some Frank’s Red Hot sauce. And I ate it up without complaint.

Don’t let your food prejudices get the better of you and prevent you from enjoying culinary enlightenment. I know I would not have enjoyed my lunch as much had my eggs been scrambled.

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