Ouef (Part Deux): The Yolks On You

OK, here’s an update on the whole egg disaster thing: success.

So, if you read my previous post, you know I totally embarrassed myself by cracking open a raw egg all over my plate and tablecloth a couple of breakfasts ago. Hey, who knew it was raw? It looked hard boiled.

This morning, I asked the server: “How does this work?” as I pointed at the boiling-water machine, hoping he’d take the bait.

He did: “You turn this on for two minutes until the water bubbles, then you put the egg in for three minutes. Would you like me to do it for you?”

“Oui … may I have two?”

“Oui.”

eggboiler.jpg

Was it rude to ask for deus? Was that an ugly-American thing he’ll tell people about?

A few minutes later, the two perfectly soft-boiled eggs arrived at my table in their little soft-boiled egg holders. I felt like I was a Crawley (you know, the Downton Abbey people).

And, get this: there’s a special device to open up a small hole at the top of the egg.

egg11.jpg

“You do this,” the server said and showed me how you put the little cylinder on top of the egg, pull up the plunger, release it … and it smashes down on the top of the egg, creating a small, circular crack that you can easily remove with your special soft-boiled egg spoon.

It worked.

The eggs were indeed delicious, all runny, yolky and eggy … and also kind of messy. I’m not exactly a soft-boiled egg eating expert (can’t remember the last time I had one) and managed to slop a lot of yolk down the sides of the shell and onto the dish below. Tried to sop them up with baguette, but they immediately hardened and stuck to the plate like glue. Is this normal … or am I just a really sloppy soft-boiled egg eater? If you’re an expert … please let me know.

egg10.jpg

Oh well, it was practice for tomorrow … my last breakfast here at the Hotel Claude Darroz in Langon. Who knows what breakfast adventures await me at my next stop?

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