Over the weekend I had a lovely night out with my husband. We went to see Julie and Julia. It was delightful! It was amazing! It practically charmed my socks off.
It made me wish I could sashay down the streets of Paris with my statuesque sisters, towering over everyone else, dipping our fingers in brie and asking each other if that wasn't the most marvelous brie we had ever tasted in our entire lives.
I'm not especially familiar with Julia Child, but I adored her way of savoring life. She (at least as the movie portrayed her) seemed completely able to lose herself in the moment, to breathe in a piece of fresh bread and relish its aroma to the exclusion of any other thought. To throw back her head and laugh without reserve, to say what she felt, to allow herself every emotion. Everything that came out of her mouth seemed to require an exclamation point...it was really quite amazing to me, the somewhat reserved Canadian headmistress.
I must say it was rather inspiring.
Since then, I have been poaching eggs. Why? I don't know. It just seems the right thing to do. It just seems like a poached egg is an affirmation of all that is beautiful in life, of savoring the moment, of channeling the indomitable spirit of Julia Child.
The problem is, I can't say I am especially crazy about poached eggs. Normally I would not admit such a flaw as I know it will get me kicked out of the French club (and I do so want to belong!), but in the spirit of allowing myself every emotion, I must tell you I think poached eggs are rather creepy.
I will say this, however, I am trying to evolve on the matter. You really can't poach as many eggs as I have in the past few days and not make a little progress.
Anyway, because I just know someone is foolhardy enough to ask, let me tell you how to poach an egg. Or, by all means, purchase a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. It will be an adventure either way.
1. First, try doing it the way you imagine one would poach an egg. You know, using guesswork and instinct, your trusty culinary sidekicks. Once you've gotten that penchant for failure out of your system, find some instructions and do it properly.
2. Don't even think about poaching an egg without the help of a slotted spoon. Apparently the slotted spoon is like the Holy Grail of the kitchen. Guard it with your life. Revere it. Also, be sure to work the words slotted spoon into your conversation whenever possible.
3. Boil water in a pot. Throw in a dash of fancy salt. Regular salt will do, but fancy salt gives you a false sense of self confidence. We're making poached eggs, dear reader. You'll need all the self confidence you can get, even when it's false.
4. Once the water boils, pull yourself together. This is no time for an attack of the nerves!
5. Add in a few tablespoons of vinegar. Only, don't pour it from your industrial sized vinegar bottle. Away from the camera, pour the vinegar from your industrial sized bottle into a pretty white pitcher. That way, if you fail, at least you'll do so prettily, with a raging sense of false self confidence.
6. Gently stir the (not so boiling) water with your slotted spoon in a circular motion until you get a nice little whirlpool effect.
7. Now, as Julia would way, you must have the courage of your convictions! If you shrink at this moment, all is lost. Crack the egg into the water, right into the eye of the storm. The water, as it moves in its circular motion, should gently bathe the egg into a nice, coddled shape.
8. Et voilà! Set your timer for 90 seconds...or perhaps a bit longer if the thought of a runny yolk makes your stomach flop.
9. How are things going? Nicely? Raise your slotted spoon into the air. Make some sort of sound like you just went into battle against a horde of Saxons and emerged victorious. Later that night you will build a bonfire and sing about your feats in the kitchen, and your children will pass down the legend for generations to come.
10. Did the timer just go off? Don't panic. The slotted spoon, that most gallant of kitchen utensils, now comes to your rescue. Gently fish your egg out of the water and allow it to drain. Place the egg carefully upon a piece of toasted bread. Sprinkle salt. Grind pepper. Cut it in half because supposedly the sight of egg yolk oozing everywhere is the equivalent of life's most pleasurable moments...a thought which begs the question: how starved for pleasure is the lover of runny yolks?
11. Call your children to you. Ask them if they ever saw such a marvelous poached egg in their entire lives, and say it the way Julia Child would. When they look at you nervously, switch back to your own voice. Poaching eggs needn't be traumatic for children.
12. Lay out the table. Set a tiny vase of fresh flowers beside each plate. Have music playing in the background. Observe your daughter as she samples her first poached egg.
Does she like it?
Mais, voyons donc--it's a poached egg, darling! Did you ever in your life taste anything so marvelous as that?!
