I’d been saving the potatoes recently harvested from our garden (yes, potatoes in February) for the arrival of some fresh eggs in our CSA box. Poaching works best with the freshest possible eggs, before the egg structure begins to deteriorate. This egg could not have been more than a couple of days old. It slid into the simmering water and held its shape in textbook fashion, then perched atop the previously boiled potato pieces. Season with a little salt, a little pepper, and a generous grating of Parmesan cheese.
After nibbing around the edges, the moment came to break the yolk. Deep, orange deliciousness oozes out and spreads among the tatties.
But the potatoes resist mopping up the yolk. After examining this scene for a moment, it occurs to me that my spuds need to be smashed. My fork does the job. Now I have a nice chunky mash of potato and yolk. Eggs and potatoes are wonderful things, and work quite well together.
We are engaging the concerns of a hungry planet--slowly--right here in our kitchen garden in the District of Columbia, about a mile from the White House.
That makes quite a nice supper too. I always liked breakfast for supper.
Supper, not Dinner.
Maureen, we are really big on breakfast for dinner around here as well. Usually, pancakes with bacon.