Consider the Egg

I awoke this morning thinking about eggs. The breakfast kind. Sunny side up kind. White firmly cooked but yolk still runny. A dash of salt, a light sprinkle of fresh ground pepper, and four of them staring up at me from a plate. Hot. Cooked in butter somewhat slowly so the bottom side is not singed.

Accompanying the eggs is an English muffin well toasted and slathered in butter. The butter melts and pools in the crisply toasted craters, their edges crinkled and toasty.

Now I pick up one half of the muffin and approach the eggs. The fork cuts the eggs completely so the yolks are running throughout the mixture of butter, whites and yolks. One big mess on the plate. Aromas escaping toward my nostrils enticing the very first bite.

And then – it happens – the bite, long anticipated and scrumptious. In all its flavor the eggs, butter, salt and pepper come to full flavorful fruition! Follow the first savory mouthful with a juicy bite of muffin ala butter! And the second wave of delirium and flavor floods the taste buds. Wow!

One should say – Zowie!  In fact I just did!

Is there anything better than this? Oh yes; there is: many more mouthfuls until the entire plate is wiped clean of its goodness. The little bits of yolk streaks on the plate will soon disappear with the wiping of the plate by juicy bits of bacon strips. Less than a minute later the plate is as clean as it was when it came out of the dishwasher. Not one iota of eggs/butter/bacon/salt/pepper/English muffin remains. All of the flavor is now safely inside me.

What a treat. Then to sit and recall the flavors. All that remains of this incredible breakfast is the room temperature orange juice. Piquant sips of juice slowly awaken another set of taste buds and soon the breakfast is finally over and done.  All that is left is clearing the near clean dishes to the dishwasher. Soon enough that is done.

Wow. Consider the egg. Consider this breakfast. We visit it twice each week – Wednesday morning and Sunday after church services.

Why so few times per week? I really don’t know. Perhaps the fervor would lessen and the flavors, too? I tremble at that prospect.

I think I will leave well enough alone. Only four more days until Sunday’s breakfast. And then visiting hours with the eggs welcomes me to the table.

Blessings!

May 31, 2016