I can’t poach an egg. This isn’t a euphemism for life or some kind of inspirational thing where the tag line is something like ‘life is an egg’ or another collection of random words that leave you to find some totally ambiguous meaning which you will immediately apply to your own life then post on facebook with the line ‘this’ leaving all your friends completely bewildered but with a strange yearning for a boiled egg and soldiers. Nope, this is just a cold hard fact. I can not poach eggs. I do all the right things. Boil the water, tablespoon of white wine vinegar, make a super fast black hole vortex thingy with a whisk and throw the egg in there as fast as you damn can. According to the T.V what should now happen is that the egg spins around in a beautiful ballet style dance while the white slowly folds around the yolk and become this stunning pearly little package with the yolk nestled inside. I should be able to lift it out with a spoon, this delicate little package, then break it with a fork over my bacon and the perfectly cooked yolk will come spilling out in a pool of shiny yellow leaving my whole breakfast looking so damn appetizing I just want to bury my head in to the plate and make totally inappropriate grunting noises as I inhale it, and the pattern, directly off the plate.
But, and here is the proper kick in the teeth, T.V lied! I know. I find that incredibly hard to believe too. T.V, the medium that is raising my kids, lies. It breaks my heart. You see what happens to my egg is this. As soon as it hits the water the whole things stops. Like everything stops, the water doesn’t spin any more, the bubbling quits and the egg just lays there, the white sort of drifts about the pan and separate’s in to congealed white lumps, the yolk kind of bobs around a bit looking a bit hopeless. I panic at this point and stick the whisk in thinking if I act fast enough I can get it all started again and have that T.V egg I so crave. But no. I end up with white bits dangling off of my whisk, spinning around the pan, draped over the edges of the pan. Basically anywhere except around my yoke and when I step back to survey the damage the whole pan is just a boiling, seething mass of white foam. Basically I just made egg soup. Ok, a really vile egg soup that looks like the polluted shore line of a particularly disgusting stagnant pond, but soup none the less. After sifting through I find the yolk, still intact but totally separate from any white. It is just a little yellow ball sat at the bottom of the pan. At this point I figure that will be fine. I fish it out, put it on my bacon, which has burnt to a crisp whilst I wrestled with the egg and, voila! No shiny beautiful cascade but I do have burnt bacon with yellow snot. I astound myself at my culinary skills I really do.