Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Don't ask me to cook the eggs

 In my previous two blogs ago, "A Corgi in Southern California" some of you (not many) may remember where I had a disaster cooking eggs for boiled eggs.  At the time my son was working a valet job and my hubby was working another job and I was home alone (with Koda our previous corgi) in charge of cooking eggs and potatoes for a potato salad our son would put together for our next door neighbors who had people over to watch football, their team being the Green Bay Packers.

I was in charge of cooking the potatoes and the eggs so son could make the potato salad when he finished work and get the meat prepared for smoking.  I prepared the potatoes for cooking and put them and the eggs on the stove, but then I got engrossed in a book the Winter Garden and I totally forgot the potatoes and eggs cooking.  Really, it was a good book.  When I realized I had things on the stove, all the water had cooked out from both the eggs and the potatoes.  The potatoes were salvageable, the eggs weren't.  Thankfully we had more eggs at home to cook and the second time around I kept track of them better and they were cooked and useable.

So you would think I would have learned my lesson right? 

Wrong.  About two weeks ago on a Saturday afternoon I put some eggs on to boil for hard boiled eggs.  My breakfasts most days of the week are 1 hard boiled egg and a package of instant oatmeal.  Side note.  Winslow loves hard boiled eggs (they are safe for dogs).  He has Egg Friday and Egg Sunday when he gets one.  He inhales them (chopped up) in less than 10 seconds.  

Anyway, I put the eggs on for cooking and I sit down by the desktop computer.  Hubby is finishing up practice for the worship service at church and then getting a shower before he has to leave.

A little later I hear a popping sound.  I kind of look but don't think too much of it.  A few minutes later I hear another popping sound.  Winslow has been sleeping by me and with each popping sound he kind of does a little bark.  After the second one I get up to go back to the bedroom where hubby is to see if he heard something.  He's about done getting ready, just tying his shoes.  I mention the popping noise.  He confirms he heard it.  And then I say "MY EGGS!!!" and go running to the kitchen, expecting to see a fire.

Thankfully!!! the water had just cooked out of the eggs once again.  No fire but ruined eggs.  Peeled one to see if I could use them but you could taste the burnt smell so all of them went down the garbage disposal.  

After the pot cooled down, I put more eggs on to cook.  BUT this time I set the timer for 30 minutes so I would remember them.

And subsequently have done the same every time I have cooked eggs since.  May be a slow learner, but found a fix that hopefully I'll continue to use :)

So if you have me over to help cook, please don't ask me to cook the eggs.  It won't be pretty with how they might turn out :)

(Any recent cooking disasters your way?)