Mrs P had a reorganisation of the kitchen cupboards last week. Nothing on a par with what Mrs Nesbitt is going through, but enough to cause me some confusion.
My automatic pilot has been 100% reliable in guiding me to the chocolate and snack cupboard until now, but all that has changed as you can see on the left.
Instead of Crunchie bars, rich tea biscuits and my secret stash of Green and Blacks, there is now a hodge-podge of other stuff, like jars of Bolognese sauce, chick peas, fajitas, Pot Noodles, kidney beans and M+S blackcurrant jelly mix.
But the key items pictured above are the egg boxes. They have never been kept here before and that has really thrown me. Every time I checked round the kitchen with my shopping list, I thought: ‘Ah, we’re out of eggs. Must get some more.’
As a result, we ended up with 30 eggs instead of the usual half dozen, some approaching their ‘If you catch salmonella from eating these don’t try suing us’ date.
So we’ve been eating rather a lot of egg dishes over the last few days and that has taken me back to one of my nursery food favourites — choppy-up eggs in a cup.
Eggs boiled for five or six minutes then scooped out into a cup in which there is a little butter, a pinch or two of salt and a smattering of pepper (white, not black).
Chop up the contents with a tea spoon and serve with warm buttered toast, not hot otherwise the butter melts which it shouldn’t do until the eggs are dolloped on top.
Delicious.
I just finished an assault on the whole house, possible only because the wife and daughter were away.
you have not tasted a free range egg until you have tried one of MINE
sublime
We occasionally get eggs from an ex-brother-in-law or our nextdoor neighbour’s free range hens and they are much tastier than shop-bought.
The worst thing I did recently was to pick up a carton at the supermarket without thinking that actually said in big yellow letters on the lid: ‘Fresh British Eggs from Caged Hens’.
“So we’ve been eating rather a lot of egg dishes over the last few days and that has taken me back to one of my nursery food favourites — choppy-up eggs in a cup.”… This reminds me of Shakespeare’s Seven Ages of Man speech, the final stage being – “second childishness and mere oblivion/Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything”. Perhaps Mrs Parrot hasn’t rearranged the cupboards at all!