It’s no secret that I am not a natural in the kitchen. This is definitely the one area of wifedom & motherhood where I fail…majorly. So much so that I rarely even make an attempt. Is it any wonder that I married an amazing amateur chef? 😉
The first time my future husband invited me to his house he prepared a feast: fajitas, tostadas, beans, homemade salsa, guacamole. He might have won me over right there. The first time I invited him to my house I whipped up some pad thai…and he choked down the chewy, almost inedible noodles with a smile (he was still trying to be polite and impress me– he later confessed how terrible they were). After the pad thai debacle I didn’t cook again for him for years. Literally.
Now that I’m a stay-at-home mom I feel like it’s part of the job description to at least try occasionally. Over Christmas break I made french toast a few times (both Lilu and I agree that my french toast is superior…a small victory!) I even made over easy eggs once and managed not to break the yolks.
Unfortunately I think my french toast success over-inflated my confidence in the culinary arts. Today I thought I would let my hard-working hubby sleep in and make a healthy sweet potato hash with fried eggs. The eggs were a cinch last week, so I expected a repeat performance.
Nope. Every single yolk broke. The pan tilted and the whites all ran together. I put the rejects on a plate off to the side and cracked some new eggs. Fail. Again. I was about to just give up and scramble everything together when hubby rubbed the sleep from his eyes and swooped in to grab the spatula and save breakfast.
Down, but not out! I will someday achieve the perfect egg once more. Until then, I’ll enjoy eating instead! (PS- the egg in the picture is definitely NOT mine!)