Basted Eggs

I loved visiting my grand parents for lots of reasons, but one for sure was that I knew I would get to enjoy my favorite breakfast ever… basted eggs.  My grandmother made them the BEST!  My Uncle Jim was a driver for Swift  Meats, so if he was visiting there might be a slice of ham or bacon available,  but I really didn’t care that much about the meat.  I looked forward to two perfectly cooked eggs with a slice of toast from the old Toastmaster.

She cooked the eggs in butter and patiently used a teaspoon to baste the yellows of the eggs with the hot butter so a light skin would form.  She knew just when to take them from the pan.  There was no raw, runny stuff anywhere and the golden yolk was the perfect consistency for dipping a warm piece of toast.  I often attempted to make them myself after she passed but it was always hit or miss with mine.  She just had the touch.  I’m certainly sorry I never asked her what the secret was.

For years I would go to restaurants and attempt to order basted eggs and got the strangest looks.  Over easy is what most people order, but they can come back so runny you can’t look at the egg or the yolks are so hard you need your knife to cut them.  Basted is best.  The irony of this story?  I developed a violent aversion to eggs about 25 years ago and haven’t been able to have ANY egg for breakfast since.  It certainly is a good thing I savored those eggs as I did.  How about you?  Will there be food you enjoyed growing up that you’ll never enjoy again after I’m gone?  If so… better ask about the recipe now while you can.  Restaurants come and go, but if you teach how to cook that favorite item, it will be passed on from generation to generation.