X for lunch. Poached

There’s no real secret to making perfect poached eggs. Just that the eggs must be absolutely fresh. I’ve tried various methods, but now I simply boil water, crack in the eggs and simmer gently (or take the pan off the heat and leave them in the hot water) until they look right. Which was what I did for lunch yesterday. Only thing I got wrong, which I didn’t notice until I was sitting down to eat them, was forgetting to toast the bread. Poached eggs on a slice of dry bread isn’t nearly as nice as on toast.

I didn’t go out at all yesterday, because the weather wasn’t very good. I did various dull jobs and watched television, which is v bad, as they say. Today turned a bit chaotic. I went to church in good time as I was both playing the organ (practise in advance? What a good idea that would have been) and making coffee after the service. I thought I’d just dump the milk and bikkies (Jammie Dodgers, which were all I had as it was raining and windy and I couldn’t face cycling in to the shops) in the kitchen, switch on the immersion heater and the hot water urn and do the rest later. However, I couldn’t unlock the kitchen door. I got my key out of my bag (I’d used the one in another locked room) and that didn’t work either. I was flummoxed. Fortunately, someone had forgotten to bolt the hatchway doors, so I climbed in through the hatch to try from the other side. I found that the cable from the urn was caught in the door jamb.

Eventually I got it out (we’ll go for the short version here) and unlocked the door and got on with things, but it all took nearly half an hour. Then I found that one of the hymn numbers written down wasn’t the one I expected to play and another hymn was one I can play on the clarinet but not on the organ – some of these very flowing modern hymns are okay on a piano but just don’t go on the organ and besides I’m a lousy organist if I don’t work hard at it – so I changed it, with no time, by then, to practise anything. It was okay. One hymn, I even played well. Would have been better if I hadn’t lost count of verses in the final hymn, but there we go. The art of humility is won through humiliation.

Today’s lunch was especially delicious, cooked by Weeza and Phil. Zerlina was still wearing her bee backpack and very happy. Tonight, we won’t eat much. Possibly soup – there’s still plenty left of the minestrone. Or there’s always a poached egg.

15 comments on “X for lunch. Poached

  1. Z

    No love – though very nicely put (does this mean you’re starting to feel better?). Yesterday was my W post, and the pictures were an Xtra. I didn’t put it in the title, to make it clear. I thought.

  2. Four Dinners

    I can make a mean poached egg.

    I can also make a mean welsh rarebit (cheese on toast)

    I once forgot an egg in the shed and it hatched…I kid you not. The temperature must have been condusive or some’at.

    I shot off to a local farm and the chicken made it!!!

    It now lives on the farm free of the danger of McDonalds.

    She is called Feathers.

    Why is my life so weird?

  3. Pat

    I can’t begin to tell you how heartening it is to hear that you can forget the toast when poaching eggs. Smething I haven’t done for years – poaching that is – not forgetting which I do daily.

  4. Z

    Humidity must have been right too. Lucky for Feathers you checked the shed that day.

    I’m flattered, Sir B.

    Oh Pat, and I didn’t even notice until I started to eat it. I don’t see what’s wrong with a spot of poaching, myself – indeed, ’tis my delight on a shiny night in the season of the year.

  5. Rog

    Poached eggs is the one and only time I’m allowed to wear the chef’s hat…I’m not yolking!

    I swirl the water round with a spoon before puting the eggs in which seems to assist keeping them neat. I used to put a drop of vinegar in the water but decided that wasn’t really helping.

  6. Z

    These things are useful if the eggs aren’t quite fresh, but if you’ve hurried in from squeezing a chicken, straight into the kitchen clutching a still-warm egg, you don’t need them.

  7. Eddie 2-Sox

    No. Secret. To. Poaching.

    Oh Z, shame be on you! You know perfectly well that I tried and tested twelve poaching methods, with wildly varied results.

    Coincidentally, this very morning I poached eggs for me and my nurse, for breakfast, and they came out perfectly. I didn’t claim perfection, but she commented on it.

    I think even Delia Smith might be able to poach an arse-warm egg straight from the hen though, and Delia is SHIT with eggs.

  8. Eddie 2-Sox

    Thinking about it, “Me and my nurse” sounds wrong. I’m not receiving home care just yet.

    Not “that” kind if home care anyway.

    Let’s put it this way….I know how she likes her eggs in the morning.

  9. Z

    I know, my love – but what I don’t remember you mentioning is the relative freshness of every egg. No one can poach a stale egg successfully.

    And if the answer is ‘fertilised’, then I’ll stand by with the champagne!

    As for Delia and eggs, oh blimey, remember that awful dreadful runny scrambled egg? I can’t imagine why she didn’t just keep talking and stirring for an extra couple of minutes.

  10. Z

    Shall we all meet up at Eddie’s place and let him feed us poached eggs? He is the eggspert after all.

    Then we could go to the pub for a pint.


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