A Fifty-Cent Surcharge On Eggs? Okay, How About Buttered Toast?

I'll Fork Over Extra For A Decent Slice

The world was shocked the other day by the announcement that Waffle House is going to be charging a fifty-cent per egg surcharge. Well, at least it was shocking in the part of the world that knows what a “Waffle House” is. That means my two eggs, scrambled, with bacon, hash browns (plain) and buttered toast is now gonna cost me an extra buck. Boh! (That's pretty much the Italian equivalent of “meh”.) Like it or not, (and I don't) it is what it is and there's little to gain by screaming about it.

You really want something to scream about, though? How about the aforementioned buttered toast? I mean, why in the hell can't I get a decent piece of buttered toast at a Waffle House? Or an IHOP? Or pretty much any other chain breakfast place? Buttered toast. Emphasis on the “buttered.” It's a simple enough preparation. It seems like something anybody could do. I, myself, have been doing it since around the age of five.

I Googled “buttered toast” and was rewarded with numerous results containing actual recipes for how to make buttered toast. Seriously. But the very first one pretty much summed up the process: “Evenly spread butter onto toasted bread using a butter knife or spreader.” Ah-HA! THERE'S the rub! It's those first two words, “evenly spread.”

See, when I make buttered toast at home, I by golly make buttered toast. That means that you can actually see the butter on the toast and it also means that said butter is “ evenly spread” from the top of the bread slice to bottom and from side to side and corner to corner. In short, the toast is completely, thoroughly, and unequivocally buttered.

Not so in your average breakfast emporium. In many of those establishments I have to bring out a magnifying glass to detect the little spot of butter they administer with an eyedropper to the center of the slice of toasted bread. And in a lot of places, it's not even real butter but rather some unholy chemical concoction euphemistically labeled as “buttery spread,” “butter-flavored spread,” or my favorite “Liquid Butter,” which is actually liquid and hydrogenated soybean oil with a trace of salt, soy lecithin, and natural and artificial flavor, with beta carotene added for color and with dimethylpolysiloxane thrown in as an anti-foaming agent.

Honestly, I can't remember the last time I asked for buttered toast that it didn't arrive on my plate with a vague yellow smear across the center of the bread that made it look as though Remy, the delightful little rat/chef from the Disney classic “Ratatouille,” had dipped his tail in butter and scampered quickly across the surface.

Actually, I really do know why restaurants serve sub-par buttered toast. I don't like the answer any more than I like the surcharge on eggs, but.....

Let's bring Remy back into the discussion. A good chef like Remy would know that the magic number for an even, thick coating of butter on a piece of toast is one-and-a-half tablespoons. That's equal to about three-quarters of an ounce.

But, being a canny and cost-conscious little guy, Remy would realize that, with sixteen ounces to a pound, he's getting twenty-one slices of toast per pound of butter. As I'm writing this today, a pound of salted butter at my favorite restaurant wholesaler is going for about $3.25 for the cheap stuff and about $4.25 for the better quality product. Let's split the difference at $3.75. Twenty-one slices of toast per pound of butter equals roughly eighteen cents worth of butter per slice of toast.

Now, the standard two pound (thirty-two ounce) loaf of white sandwich bread that most restaurants use contains about twenty-eight slices and wholesales for about $5.25. Roughly nineteen cents a slice. Nineteen cents worth of bread and about eighteen cents worth of butter equals around thirty-seven cents that Remy's got to shell out for every slice of toast he serves if he's preparing it thoroughly buttered with real butter. An “order” of toast is generally two slices, so about seventy-four cents for an order of well-buttered toast. If Remy has a hundred covers (restaurant-speak for “diners” or “customers”) a day for breakfast, he's spending $74 a day on toast. $518 a week. $2,072 a month. You get the idea.

Now, “Liquid Butter,” on the other hand, wholesales for about $11.50 a gallon. There's 128 ounces in a gallon and if Remy just dips and smears maybe a teaspoon of cheap butter substitute on the toast he serves, that's 1/6 of a fluid ounce or about a penny-and-a-half per slice of toast. Add the bread back in to the equation and Remy can prepare a slice of “buttered” toast in this manner for about twenty-one cents. Forty-two cents an order. Forty-two bucks per hundred covers, etc. Does it matter that it's a crappy excuse for buttered toast? Nah. Not when the bottom line is on the line.

And then there's the toast itself. Inconsistent, at best. My grandmother used to like her toast burned to the consistency of carbon. Don't ask me why. My mother, on the other hand, liked hers barely warmed. A little brown was okay, but don't overdo it. Most restaurants strive to hit the middle ground. But lately I've been getting a lot of toast that is charred black on one side and barely warmed on the other. Or it's not really “toasted” at all. Lacking an actual four or six-slice commercial toaster in the kitchen, the cooks are slapping the bread in a pan or on the flattop and “toasting” it that way, or they're putting it on a sheet tray and sticking it under a broiler for a minute or two. Yes, technically it's “toasted,” but it's not really toast.

Tell you what; if you're gonna jack up the price of eggs by half-a-buck to cover the increased cost, I'd be willing to fork over an extra quarter to have a real, honest-to-goodness slice of buttered toast on my plate next to those high-dollar eggs. Real toast. Real butter. Slathered all over.

But I, as usual, am naught but a voice crying in the wilderness. It ain't gonna happen. And since Waffle House, IHOP, et.al. would likely look askance at me for bringing in my own buttered toast, I suppose my breakfast fate is sealed.

Or toasted.

An Egg Cracker? Really?!

Sorry, But I've Got To “Counter” This Recommendation

It's been a slow afternoon, and as I was scrolling through some useless stuff on the Net I came across a piece on the best way to scramble eggs. Since I've only been doing it for over a half-century, I thought I'd take a look and see what modern innovations may have revolutionized the process. And, lo and behold, the first “need” the young author presented in her list of essentials (all available for purchase on Amazon and various other outlets, by the way) was an egg cracker.

No. Really, An egg cracker.

For only nine bucks, it's something I never knew I needed. Imagine, I've been struggling to cook scrambled eggs, both at home and in the professional kitchen, for decades and now I realize that I've only been making things harder on myself by not possessing an egg cracker. I feel so utterly inadequate now. I hereby apologize to all the people to whom I have presented obviously sub-par scrambles owing to my egregious lack of proper equipment.

Seriously, this little gadget looks like a spoon rest with a raised ridge in the middle of it. In fact, the author notes that you can use it as a spoon rest when you're not using it for egg prep. So it's a multi-tasker! Yay! “It can help you cleanly break shells into a straight line," she enthuses. "All you do is crack your egg against the center ridge, then pour the whites and yolk into a bowl.”

I already have a similar device in my kitchen: it's called a countertop.

Now, I don't have one of these things in my hand, but looking at the picture it seems to me that the little ridge in the center would have the same effect as the edge of a bowl in that it would not necessarily “cleanly break” the shell. The preferred better and safer method of egg cracking is to give the egg a firm tap on a flat surface – like a countertop. The egg-sperts – see what I did there? – say this method is far less likely to drive little shards of shell and any possibly contaminating bacteria into the interior of the egg.

Every culinary school graduate I know uses a flat surface for breaking eggs rather than striking them against a sharp corner or the edge of a bowl. Even though you see the occasional TV chef employing that practice, I promise you it's not what they were taught in school. I've even run across a few people – very few – who break their eggs by smacking them together. Okay, fine. But what if you're only cracking one egg?

My mother and my grandmother and probably their grandmothers, too, cracked eggs on the edge of a bowl. It's intuitive and it's how most home cooks roll. I don't know when the “better,” “safer” method was discovered/developed/decided upon among professional cooks, but it's the one they teach now and it's the only one I use/teach as well.

Once you crack the shell, techniques for the messy part - breaking the egg open the rest of the way – vary according to the preference and skill level of the cook.

I can open an egg one-handed. It's not really hard. It just takes a little practice. You hold the egg in your hand with your thumb placed along one long side of the egg and your fore and middle fingers on the other. Bring your pinky and ring finger to the bottom side and press the bottom of the egg into your palm. Crack the egg against a flat surface, then, in a slight twisting motion, use your thumb and forefinger to lift the top half while using your ring finger and pinky to pull down on the bottom half. If you've cracked the egg cleanly, it should separate cleanly and everything will come out without any shell fragments. 

I seldom do it this way, unless I'm trying to be showy or something. Most of the time, I do it the way everybody else does: after cracking the shell on a flat surface, you lightly press the tips of your thumbs into the crack until the egg's keratinous outer and inner membranes break. Then you just gently pull the shell apart and the white and yolk parts will slide out into your waiting bowl, hopefully intact. And, by the way, while not absolutely necessary, it's always a good idea to crack eggs into a separate bowl before mixing them together for your scramble or omelet or cake batter or whatever. Reason being, if you get a bad egg – which can sometimes happen – you can isolate it before it mixes in with other eggs and ruins the whole works. And it's easier to fish a stray bit of shell out of one egg than it is to fish it out of two or three or more.

So, there you have Egg Cracking 101. And it didn't cost you a penny.

The advocate of the nine-dollar egg cracker, who identifies herself as a “Senior Editor, Home & Garden” goes on to recommend a wide variety of bowls, whisks, spatulas, pans, holders, cookers, containers, add-in ingredients, and more, all of which are only a click away throughout her article. Fine. Everybody has got to make a buck. But if you've got a bowl, a balloon whisk, a silicone spatula or a wooden spoon, and a non-stick pan, you've pretty much got everything you need. The most essential thing you'll require to make outstanding scrambled eggs is practice and you can't buy that online.

You can buy an egg cracker, though. But, really, don't. 

Restaurant Review: First Watch, Winston-Salem, NC

First Watch or Last Choice?

We were in Winston-Salem, North Carolina for some weekend shopping and business when we got a little hungry for a midday brunch. We did a Google search for such places and got a list of three that looked interesting. Based on the reviews, we chose a place called First Watch. I wish we had chosen one of the other two.

In all my many years of dining on the road, from diners in Georgia to themed restaurants in Tennessee to high-dollar eateries in New Orleans and Las Vegas, I have seldom walked away from a place regretting having gone there. So First Watch was a first for me. I actually came away with buyers' remorse, except there was no viable way to return the product for a refund.

Oh, sure, I've eaten at places I didn't like and to which I've said “never again,” but this is the first place I've ever gone where I actively wished I had never wasted my time and money. Especially the money.

This experience also reinforces my long-held opinion that most of the people who write restaurant “reviews” on Google are friends and relatives of the restaurant owners and employees. That certainly must have been the case here because the reviews were overwhelmingly glowing and positive. Even the one where a member of the dining party apparently got food poisoning from a salad and wound up in the hospital. The enthusiastic “reviewer” cited the fact that nobody else got sick as validation for the positive write-up. Uffa!

When we walked into the place on a Saturday afternoon, it was, in spite of COVID protocols, buzzing. In fact, it was buzzing so loudly that we opted to sit outside, even though the weather looked a little dicey. I mean, you couldn't hear yourself think in there. Typical “modern” design: all open spaces and hard surfaces with nothing to absorb or redirect sound. Every noise, from clattering dishes to loud music to even louder conversation just bounces off walls and floors and ceilings and tables and goes right through your head. Thank you, no. We'll take our chances with the thunder and lightning.

Now, the menu ballyhoos the virtues of fresh, local food, and you know those are often buzzwords for “overpriced,” right? I expected that. And, sure, I could've gotten bacon and eggs at the Waffle House down the street for about a third of what I paid here, but this place is “trendy,” you know, and they've got all that atmosphere and fresh food and clever advertising and everything. Okay. Even so, I was shocked at the shekels I had to shovel out for the quality of the food and service I got.

I'm not gonna do the whole menu here because it's full of kitschy names like “Bacado” and “Veg'd Out” and “Key West Crepeggs.” My wife ordered what she thought was a traditional eggs Benedict and I got two eggs, scrambled, with bacon, hash browns and toast. Pretty straightforward fare.

Once we were seated, our server did a creditable imitation of the Invisible Woman. Maybe she was afraid of the impending and aforementioned lightning and thunder, I don't know. When she finally returned some twenty-five or thirty minutes later, she was bearing our feast. And what a feast it was.

I've been in the food service business, okay, and I'm pretty understanding and easy to please and you have to do something fairly egregious to get me to complain about food. When our server set my plate before me and I got one look at the absolutely hammered eggs thereupon, it was one of those egregious occasions. Had I been on the line or on expo duty, I wouldn't have even let such a travesty leave the kitchen. Some poor hen somewhere – somewhere “local,” I'm sure – produced two eggs that were subsequently presented to me in the form of burnt offerings. It's not hard to scramble eggs, it's really not. Whip 'em up with a whisk, maybe with a little milk and some salt if that's your preference, add them to a buttered pan over medium heat and stir them until you get nice, fluffy curds. Or you can do it the way the so-called “cook” at First Watch obviously did it: whisk the eggs up and then dump them into a dry, screaming hot pan and cook them until any semblance of moisture has been driven out and they have been rendered brown and crispy on top and around the edges. Needless to say, I sent them back.

The bacon – which they call “million dollar bacon” – was wafer thin and so laden with grease that I could have let it slide down without chewing it. Maybe I misunderstood and the “million dollar” part was a reference to the price and not the quality.

The hash browns came out as home fries, which is fine. I like home fries. Except when I make them, I remember culinary school 101: if you want something to cook evenly, you have to cut it evenly. When you chop up potatoes so that some of the pieces are big and some are small and some are even smaller, they may look exceedingly “rustic” and “homey,” but they are going to cook exactly the way these did: the big pieces are going to be borderline raw, the smaller pieces are going to be about right, and the teeny pieces are going to be charred mush.

Top it off with a single slice of very dry toast, and you've definitely got a memorable meal. One I wish I could forget.

My wife didn't fare much better with her fare. The poach on her eggs was good. Not “ohmygod” good, but acceptable. But her “traditional” eggs Benedict was anything but. Instead of an English muffin, it was served on some sort of ciabatta roll and it was sliced deli ham rather than Canadian bacon. There were tomatoes on it for some inexplicable reason and it was topped –drowned? – in a Hollandaise that was so loaded with lemon you could have made lemonade with it. And she had the same "three bears-style" potatoes on the side that I had. You know, a mix of undercooked, overcooked, and just right?

And because my mother taught me that if I couldn't say something nice I shouldn't say anything at all, let me say this: Mom, the fresh-squeezed orange juice was delicious.

And then it rained. But we were both finished and done by then; finished with our meal and done with First Watch.

First Watch is a chain, so your experience may vary. But if you happen to find yourself on South Stratford Road in Winston-Salem and are tempted to visit the location there, resist the temptation. Unless you like greasy bacon, overcooked eggs, half-raw potatoes, and lemonade Hollandaise, all served up by an invisible server who will present you with a bill that will make you say, “Why the f**ck did I do that?” Then First Watch should be your first choice. For me, it's the last.

Find First Watch – if you dare – at 1602 S Stratford Rd, Ste 140 in Winston-Salem, NC. Strip mall parking. They're open daily from 7 am until 2:30 pm. Call (336) 773-8440 or go to firstwatch.com. Staff is masked and temp checked and masks for diners are required during COVID protocols. 

Bypass Advertising Chickens**t When Buying Eggs

The Incredible, Marketable Egg

As I frequently remind you (and myself), I'm old. Old enough to remember going to the grocery store to buy eggs that just said “EGGS” on the plain, old-fashioned cardboard carton. No “cage free” or “hormone free” or “free range” or any of the other clever qualifiers stamped all over the fancy containers eggs come in nowadays.

Back in those days of blissful ignorance we didn't think much about how eggs got into the cartons. Most of us knew enough about farm life to draw mental pictures of jovial farmers in overalls going out to the henhouse and raiding the nests of contented cluckers. We didn't know – or want to know – about factory farms wherein thousands of hens existed in battery cages; wire mesh contraptions, stacked and wired together usually containing more than one chicken squashed side by side with another in an arrangement that keeps them from being able to spread their wings or stretch their legs or do much of anything other than sit there and lay eggs. Each bird “lives” – if you can call it that – in about seventy square inches of space. I'm looking at my 9”x8” mousepad. That's seventy-two square inches. My wireless mouse has more room to roam than a factory farm hen. Kinda makes you look at your omelet in a different light, doesn't it?

Fortunately, awareness of these inhumane conditions is slowly forcing changes to be made in the way eggs are produced. I don't know if we'll ever get to that bucolic scene I described in the previous paragraph, but several big egg sellers and big egg users have gotten behind efforts to moderate or eliminate the cruelty. A number of states have limited or banned the use of battery cages and legislation is in the works in other jurisdictions to make things better for the birds that provide us with such an essential element of our diets.

And, of course, even as substantive efforts at improvement are being undertaken at the legal level, here come the hucksters, hawkers, peddlers, and sloganeers from the ad agencies trotting out to help thoroughly obfuscate the issue. Ever ones to leap to the forefront of a cause to see if a dollar might be made there, they have cluttered supermarket eggs cartons with all kinds of meaningless words and phrases designed to confuse consumers into feeling better about themselves and their choices. With that thought in mind, allow me to blaze a path through the chickenshit in an attempt to offer some clarity.

Let's start with “farm fresh.” If you've ever seen – or smelled – a commercial chicken farm, “fresh” is the last thing that comes to mind. It's just a term they use to sell eggs. If you want real “farm fresh” eggs, you have to go a real farm. As far as commercial egg freshness goes, check all those arcane codes on the end of the carton. There's a “pack date,” an “expiration date,” and a plant code. The plant code simply tells you in what facility the eggs were actually packaged. It's a four-digit code that's usually preceded by a “P” and if you're really curious, the USDA has a plant location tool you can use.

The “expiration date” is more a guideline for the store than for the consumer. Also expressed as a “sell by,” “use by,” or “best by” date, it just tells the grocer when to pull the eggs from the shelf. You can still safely eat the eggs for at least a couple of weeks after they “expire.” Same thing with a “sell by/use by/best by” date; it's an indicator of maximum freshness, not safety. Both expiration and sell by dates are based on the pack date; expiration dates have to be thirty days or less from the pack date and sell by dates have to be within forty-five days. The pack date is the actual date on which the eggs were put in the carton. It's a three-digit number that may be a bit confusing because it's based on Julian dating. Julian dates run from 1 through 365 (366 in a leap year), so eggs packed on April 1 of a regular year, for instance, will be Julian coded as 091.

“Natural” and “All Natural” are among the ad game's most popular buzzwords. And also among the most meaningless. They tend to slap the word “natural” on just about anything. According to the dictionary, “natural” means “existing in or formed by nature.” If that's not a broad category I don't know what is. When it comes to eggs, the USDA says egg products are “natural” if they contain no artificial ingredients, added color, and are only minimally processed. I've never encountered an artificially enhanced, color-added, processed egg, so I'm assuming just about all eggs are “natural.” And if you're scrambling unnatural eggs, I'm not sure I want to know about it.

“Organic” is the next big word of the day. It's a term that actually does have meaning when it's enforced and not just used as a selling tool. Organic eggs can be a bit healthier for you because the chickens that lay them are healthier. Organic eggs come from free-range chickens that have not been doped up with hormones, antibiotics or other drugs and which have been fed with entirely organic feed. That means the feed given to the chickens can't come from crops that are genetically modified, treated with pesticides or herbicides, or fertilized with chemical or synthetic products. And no poultry-slaughter byproducts. Which leads to another often misunderstood label: “vegetarian-fed.”

People like to think of happy chickens eating grass and grain and green, leafy vegetables. That's a nice picture but far from the truth. Chickens are omnivores: they'll eat anything including other chickens or parts thereof left over from the slaughtering process. They also eat bugs and crickets and any fly larvae – aka maggots – they happen to find hanging around in cow manure. Sorry. Probably better not to dwell on a chicken's natural diet for too long, but do keep in mind that a “vegetarian-fed” chicken's favorite between meal snack is frequently.....chicken.

I mentioned hormones. That's another specious selling point: “No Added Hormones.” By law, laying hens are not allowed to be given hormones anyway, so this phrase is a selling gimmick. Even the cheap eggs in the cheap cardboard cartons that just say “EGGS” contain no added hormones.

Same thing applies to “Antibiotic-Free.” According to the US Poultry and Egg Association, there are only three antibiotics approved by the FDA for use in laying flocks and “only a small percentage of laying flocks producing conventional eggs ever receive antibiotics due to use of effective vaccines and other management practices which minimize the need for antibiotics to treat illness.” And FDA regulations for antibiotic use ensure that antibiotic residue does not migrate to the eggs. So, it's just another advertising gimmick.

“Non GMO” is a controversial term. In and of themselves, eggs are, of course, not genetically modified. Nobody's out there trying to engineer a better chicken or a better egg through genetic manipulation. The “non-GMO” label is meant to apply to the feed the hens consume, but unfortunately most gullible consumers just see “Non-GMO” and think, “Oh, how wonderful! Non-GMO eggs!” And that's what the ad people want them to think. It sells more eggs.

“Omega-3” sounds healthy, doesn't it? And most nutritionists will agree it is. Chickens on a natural diet get an omega-3 boost from sources such as the aforementioned grasses and weeds. Such hens, therefore, lay eggs that are higher in omega-3 fatty acids than chickens that are only grain-fed. Grain-fed birds get their omega-3 charge from fortified feed. “Omega-3” eggs can be fortified with different types of omega-3 fatty acids: DHA (docosahexaenoic acid), commonly found in fish oil, and ALA (alpha linolenic acid), a component in flaxseed, walnuts, and chia seeds. EPA (eicosapentaenoic acid), also found in fish oil, is another player in the omega-3 game. The problem is there's no official recommendation for human intake of any of these substances, and even if you allow for the 1,000 mg daily intake of a combination of DHA and EPA that some experts promote, the amount of omega-3 acids added to eggs through a diet of flaxseed and fish oil are minimal. One omega-3 egg typically contains 340 milligrams of ALA and seventy-five to one hundred milligrams of DHA. So you'd have to chow down at least two-and-a-half eggs every day to get anywhere close to a beneficial level. But it sounds really healthy and it sells eggs.

“Humanely Raised” and “Animal Welfare Approved” are terms that help sell eggs to people who truly are concerned about animal welfare. You'll see little seals that say either “Certified Humane” or “Animal Welfare Approved” on the cartons. The former means that the egg producer subscribes to a set of rules and regulations that guarantee chickens have decent, healthy living conditions that include proper ventilation and appropriate nesting material in their nest boxes. They are also given the opportunity to “bathe,” something chickens do to rid themselves of lice and other parasites by flopping around in a box of dirt. The other label certifies that the birds have all these things plus being raised almost entirely outdoors and that they escape wholesale slaughter and are painlessly euthanized when their usefulness as layers expires.

Let's wrap up this walk through the chicken droppings by examining the real stars of the egg marketing firmament, “cage-free,” “free-range,” and “pastured” or “pasture raised.”

According to the US Poultry and Egg Association, “eggs labeled as cage free must be produced by hens housed in a building, room, or enclosed area that allows for unlimited access to food and water, and provides the freedom to roam within the area during the laying cycle.” However, “cage-free” only means that chickens aren’t kept in actual cages. They might still live jammed in on top of one another, up to their knees in their own and their neighbor's waste, and never see daylight within that “building, room, or enclosed area.” And remember what I said about chickens being omnivorous? It has been shown in some cases that without the barriers of cages, “cage-free” chickens living in close proximity to other chickens have a higher mortality rate due not only to the easier spread of disease but also because they tend to peck one another to death.

“Free-range” is a little better option because, the association says, “free-range” eggs must be produced by hens housed in a building, room, or area that allows for unlimited access to food, water, and continuous access to the outdoors during their laying cycle. The outdoor area may be fenced and/or covered with netting-like material. The operative word here is “access.” Just because a chicken has “access” to the outdoors doesn't necessarily mean it goes outdoors. Often chickens are still jammed into cavernous buildings with a small door on one end that opens to a few feet of outside dirt space. Even if the chickens on the far end of the building know the door is there, there's no way they'll ever get to it. And “outdoors” doesn't automatically mean some picturesque pasture where the chickens can romp and play in the sunshine. “The outdoor area may be fenced and/or covered with netting-like material;” in other words, a screened-in porch of some sort may qualify as “outdoors.”

“Pasture-Raised” or “Pastured” eggs are kind of the humane gold standard. They are exactly what they imply; eggs that are gathered from chickens who run around outdoors eating the things that chickens who run around outdoors eat. The “girls” at Vital Farms, for example, live on rotated pastures with an allowance of approximately 108 square feet per bird. Contrast that the with the seventy or so square inches allotted to commercially raised chickens in battery cages. Of course, regular old commercial eggs can sell for less than a dollar a dozen while pastured eggs go for upwards of six or seven dollars a dozen, but, as with most things in life, you get what you pay for.

Oh, and one more thing you'll find printed on egg cartons: grades. Grades are the USDA's “beauty contest” for eggs. The grades “A,” “AA,” and “B” have nothing to do with the nutritional content of the egg. While they do help weed out defective eggs with unpleasant things like blood spots, meat spots, bloody whites, mixed rot, blood rings, stuck yolks, embryo chicks, and other nastiness that you wouldn't want to serve sunny-side up, grades are primarily cosmetic standards. The highest grade is Grade AA. These eggs have thick, firm whites and high, round yolks with clean, unbroken shells. Grade A eggs, the ones usually sold in stores, have most of the same characteristics of Grade AA, except their whites are "reasonably" firm. Grade B eggs have whites that may be thinner and yolks that may be wider and flatter than higher graded eggs and while their shells must still be unbroken, slight stains are permissible. And, of course, that USDA grade shield is yet another marketing tool used to sell more eggs.

No eggs were harmed in the writing of this article – at least not yet. I feel a frittata coming on and you know what they say about not having an omelet without breaking a few organic, pasture-raised, Grade AA eggs.

Frittata – More Than Just An “Italian Omelet”

Delicious, Nutritious, and Easy

Ever since the food science nerds got their act together and reclassified eggs from “lethal little cholesterol bombs that will clog up your arteries and kill you deader than a hammer” to “Hey! These things are actually GOOD for you!”, I've been excited. Not that I wasn't excited about eggs before; I never bought into that hooey in the first place. But now that it's okay to be excited about eggs again, I'm really excited, because that means I can share some great egg recipes with you. One of my favorite egg preparations is the frittata.

A lot of people think of frittate (that's the correct Italian plural of “frittata,” by the way) as just Italian omelets. And to some degree they are. But they are also much more. Equally as delicious and nutritious as their fancified French cousins, frittate are more versatile and less fussy. Win-win! Italians don't eat “breakfast” as we know it in America, so frittate are not generally considered “breakfast food” in the way that omelets are. In Italy, a frittata is much more likely to show up on your lunch or dinner plate. They are often served as antipasti, or what we think of as appetizers. And you can serve them hot from the pan or they can be offered at room temperature. Room temperature omelets? Not so much.

Let's start by getting rid of the idea that a frittata is nothing more than an open-faced omelet. That notion insults both cultures. You don't just throw eggs and a bunch of leftovers in a pan, cook it to a dense, rubbery consistency, slice it up, and slap it on a plate. You may not need to do all that fancy French folding and flipping, but there are definitely cooking techniques you need to master.

And while you don't require a cutesy custom “omelet pan,” the pan you use to make a frittata does make a difference. Like any good egg pan, it's got to be non-stick. BUT....you've also got to be able to stick it in the oven, which eliminates a lot of the common non-stick pans designed for home use. So where does that leave us? Either good ol' cast iron or one of the newer seasoned carbon steel pans. Whichever you choose, make absolutely sure the surface is seasoned to a glass-like state. Well-seasoned cast iron or carbon steel can be as non-stick as the most expensive ceramic or other coated pans. I've got a cast iron pan that's about thirty years old and it will outperform any non-stick on the market. But if you've been.......shall we say “casual”......about the way you care for your cookware, it can be a disaster waiting to happen. And a nice sticky egg dish is just the disaster for which it's been waiting. Doesn't matter how masterful your technique, badly seasoned cookware will sink your best effort. Just have a look at Mario Batali doing a demo where somebody has saddled him with a new and unseasoned cast iron pan. 

Speaking of technique, low and slow is the key to a great frittata. You can't just throw the ingredients in a screaming hot pan. Well.....you can, but what you get won't be a frittata. The other trick to achieving perfection is getting the top and the bottom to both cook evenly. There are a number of ways to achieve that result. Most frittata recipes start out on a stovetop and finish in an oven or under a broiler. Some recipes call for cooking the whole thing in the oven while others advocate doing all the cooking on the burner, bravely advising that you first cook the bottom in a pan, then turn the frittata out onto a plate and flip it over and back into the pan so that the top – which is now on the bottom – can finish cooking. I've successfully employed all three methods.

Okay. You've got a decent pan and a basic understanding of technique. Now what? Frittate are so versatile the options are practically limitless. But since space is not, I'll limit it to three of my favorites, each of which employs a different cooking method.

First up, let's try a basic combination of eggs, cheese, and tomatoes. Here's what you'll need:

6 eggs

1/4 cup whole milk

salt and pepper, to taste

1 sprig (about 3 tbsp) Italian flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped

6 fresh basil leaves, finely chopped

2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

8 oz fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced

1 plum tomato, cut into thin rounds

The Italian way with food relies on everything being fresh and everything being fresh will yield the best results. That said, you can use dried herbs and common supermarket mozzarella, but you won't get the same delightful Italian-ness, capisci?

Va bene. Now here's what you do:

Preheat your oven to 350°.

In a large bowl, combine the eggs and the milk and beat until frothy – think scrambled eggs. Add salt and pepper.

Chop together the parsley and the basil and add them to the egg mixture.

Heat the oil in a medium ovenproof skillet over medium-low heat. Pour in the eggs and cook until the bottom sets, 4 or 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and add a layer of cheese, then dot with slices of tomato.

Slide the pan into the preheated oven and bake until the eggs are set and the cheese has melted, 15 to 20 minutes.

Using a thin spatula to loosen around the edges, turn the frittata out of the pan to slice and serve. If it looks like it might stick, don't worry; just serve it right from the pan. Serve hot or at room temperature.

Serves 6

The next recipe combines bacon and eggs and uses the stovetop only method.

You'll need:

6 ounces pancetta or unsmoked bacon, cut into very small cubes

4 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

6 eggs at room temperature

1/4 cup whole milk

1 sprig (about 3 tbsp) Italian flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped

1/4 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Pancetta works best in this application, but regular bacon will work. It will just impart a smokier flavor to the finished dish. Same rule applies to the parsley as in the previous recipe. If you even consider using the pre-grated vaguely cheese-flavored sawdust in a green plastic can that commonly masquerades as Parmesan, I will send the Italian Cheese Police to your kitchen and it will not be pretty. I use and recommend real Parmigiano-Reggiano. Grana Padano is an acceptable substitute. Domestic Parmesan is okay. Whichever you choose, grate it fresh yourself. Pre-grated cheese – even the good stuff – looses flavor quickly.

Here's what you do:

In a large, non-stick skillet, cook the bacon in 2 tbsp of the olive oil over medium heat until it begins to crisp, about 5 minutes. Remove the bacon and set it aside, reserving some of the drippings in the pan.

In a large bowl, whisk the eggs and milk until frothy and add salt and pepper to taste. Add the parsley, cheese, and cooked bacon.

Add the remaining 2 tbsp of olive oil to the skillet the bacon was cooked in, heat it and pour in the egg mixture. Cook over medium heat until the bottom of the frittata is lightly browned and the top begins to set, 6 to 8 minutes.

Place a large plate over the top of the skillet and turn the frittata onto the plate. Then slide it back into the skillet and cook for several minutes more, until set.

Transfer to a plate, cut and serve hot or at room temperature.

Serves 6

Finally, one just for fun. This one just uses the oven and a muffin tin and turns out neat little

individual frittate. Or you can make one of the most popular items on our catering menu by using a mini-muffin tin to produce a bite-size version.

Here's what you'll need:

Non-stick cooking spray

8 large eggs

1/2 cup whole milk

salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

4 oz thinly sliced prosciutto or ham, chopped

1/3 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

2 tbsp chopped fresh Italian parsley

Having already worn out the topic of fresh ingredients, I'll move on. Just remember the Italian Cheese Police.

Here's what you do:

Preheat the oven to 375°.

Spray either 1 standard (12 cup) or 2 mini muffin tins (24 cups each) with non-stick spray. Olive oil spray is best.

In a large bowl, whisk the eggs and milk until frothy and add the salt and pepper. Stir in the ham, cheese, and parsley. Fill the prepared muffin cups with the egg mixture. Make sure you leave some head space. These little suckers will puff up like souffles, so don't overfill the cups. Half to two-thirds, maybe.

Bake until the mixture puffs and is just set in the center, about 8 to 10 minutes. Using a small spatula, loosen the sides of the frittate and slide 'em out and onto a serving platter.

Serve warm or at room temperature.

Yields about a dozen standard size or around 40 minis

Once you get the hang of the basics, impazzire! (Means “go crazy”) Chop up some cooked spaghetti and add it to the mix. Or experiment with different Italian cheeses like asiago, ricotta, or mascarpone. Spice it up with some peperoncino. The world is your oyster! And some people even add those to a frittata.

Buon appetito!

How To Ruin Scrambled Eggs

“Experts” Who Say “Don't Add Liquid” Are Misinformed

A couple of things led to my writing this little screed. The first motivator was personal experience

and the second was a recent proliferation of unsound “expert” advice.

Breakfast is probably my favorite meal, both to eat and to cook. It's definitely the one I've had the most experience cooking – more than fifty years worth. It's my singular nod to non-Italian cuisine. Italians do coffee and pastry and call it colazione. Not me. Give me some combination of bacon and eggs and potatoes and toast and biscuits and pancakes and all the trimmings. I'll eat breakfast for breakfast, I'll eat it for lunch, and I often have breakfast for dinner. Bacon was the first thing I learned to cook. Eggs were second. I can fry 'em, poach 'em, boil 'em or make 'em into an omelet or frittata. But my absolute favorite way to prepare eggs is to scramble them up all nice and light and fluffy. And I am amazed and appalled at the way scrambled eggs can be ruined by inept cooking methods.

I eat at Waffle House a good bit, especially out on the road. They're conveniently located at just about every interstate exit in the South. They're inexpensive, they're open 24/7/365, and the food is generally consistent from location to location. Unfortunately, that consistency extends to their scrambled eggs. Don't get me wrong; they're not altogether bad, but they're not altogether good either. They're.......for lack of a better word.......typical. They're cooked the same way in a lot of diner-style eateries. By and large, they are flat, dry, and dense. On the rare occasion that I encounter light, fluffy scrambled eggs at a Waffle House or similar establishment, I make a big deal out of complimenting the cook. He or she is obviously not following the “approved” restaurant technique that results in......unremarkable eggs.

Hey, I know. Short order cooks are all about speed. And sometimes speed means sacrificing little nuances......like decently cooked scrambled eggs. You break a couple of eggs into a hot pan, scramble 'em up with a spoon or a fork, cook 'em on high heat until they're dried out and brown. Doesn't usually take more than a few seconds and then you slap 'em on a plate and put up 'em for service. And a lot of home cooks do the same thing. That's what I mean by inept cooking.

Ept cooking (yes, it's a word; check the OED) requires a little more finesse. And the addition of a liquid, preferably a fat-containing liquid, to the party. Hence my second motivator. Recently, I've encountered a couple of online articles, written by alleged “experts,” that insist adding liquid to scrambled eggs is not only unnecessary but detrimental. Here's an example of that flawed advice from the Huffington Post: “We don't care how many years you've been adding milk, cream or water to your eggs, it stops today. Despite whatever type of logic you've attributed to this addition, the truth is that eggs and added liquid will separate during cooking which creates wet, overcooked eggs.” There's an Italian word for that theory – stronzate. And I'm not just talking through my fifty-plus years of experience. I've got science on my side.

Rather than try to parse the scientific reasoning on my own, I turn to the culinary nerds at America's Test Kitchen for the explanation: “When eggs are scrambled, the mechanism that transforms the liquidy beaten eggs into a fluffy mound on the plate is protein coagulation—the process by which, when exposed to heat, proteins unfold and then tangle up with one another and set, forming a latticed gel. The more tender the scrambled eggs, the more loosely the proteins have coagulated. Adding water to scrambled eggs dilutes the proteins a little, thereby raising the temperature at which they coagulate and making it harder to overcook the scramble. Water also increases the amount of steam, which puffs up the eggs, producing fluffy scrambled eggs. As for milk, it contains water but also fat, which coats the protein molecules so that they can’t bind with one another as tightly. The key to scrambled eggs that are both fluffy and tender is a balance of water and fat.....The bottom line: Scrambled eggs benefit from added liquid, preferably a liquid with fat.”

Don't like those experts? How about this one, Dr. Harold McGee, author of On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen. “Cream, butter, milk, water, or oil (used in China) will dilute the egg proteins and produce a tenderer mass when the eggs are carefully cooked.” The italics are mine, because Dr. McGee goes on to point out that “overheating, however, will cause some of the added liquid to separate.” Ah-HA! Go back to that opposing statement a couple of paragraphs ago; yes, “added liquid will separate during cooking,” but only if you're not cooking the eggs right in the first place! If you're using a blazing hot pan, the liquid will, indeed, separate. So don't do that!

And as as aside to Dr. McGee, China is not the only place they use oil in scrambled eggs. Waffle House does, too, as Bon Appétit Restaurant Editor Andrew Knowlton discovered on a recent magazine assignment as a Waffle House cook. Andrew calls liquid vegetable shortening “literally the grease that keeps the gears at Waffle House spinning.” And a former cook there reveals that Waffle House employs two or three tablespoons of the stuff in a hot aluminum pan when cooking scrambled eggs. And that's likely why the discrepancy I've experienced; some cooks not as obsessed with speed don't get the pan as screamingly hot as others and the eggs turn out better as a result.

Dr. McGee says “scrambled eggs made in the usual quick, offhand way are usually hard and forgettable.” Can I get an “amen” from the choir!! He goes on, “the key to moist scrambled eggs is low heat and patience; they will take several minutes to cook.” Oh, preach it, Brother McGee!!

Now, I'm not going to write another piece on how to make scrambled eggs because I've already written one and you can find it here: http://ronjamesitaliankitchen.blogspot.com/2011/01/how-to-make-best-scrambled-eggs.html. There's lot's of cool stuff in there about temperatures and protein matrices and coagulation and Maillard reactions and such, but besides all that it's a darn good example of the right way to cook scrambled eggs. One thing I will reiterate here, though, is Egg Cookery Rule 101: Eggs that look done in the pan will be overdone on the plate. If you remove the pan from the heat while the eggs are still a little soft, carry-over will render them perfectly cooked when you plate them. If you wait until they look “done” in the pan, carry-over will carry them right over the edge and they'll be hard and dry.

Here's the takeaway: Ignore the “experts” who babble about not putting liquid in your scrambled eggs. Either they were absent for the scientific discussion in culinary school or they only read half the lesson. And go out of your way to praise the rare Waffle House, Denny's, et al cook who actually gets it right. Maybe if enough people compliment the good cooks, the bad ones will either be inspired or fired. Better yet, just learn good technique on your own and you can make perfect scrambled eggs yourself. 

How To Break An Egg. Really.

Let's Get Crackin'

Right about now you're saying to yourself, “You're kidding. Some idiot is actually writing about how

to break an egg?” And you know what? Up until recently, I would have been right there with you. But that was before I discovered how many people can't do it. Or at least can't do it properly. I mean, how hard is it to break an egg, right? You'd be surprised.

A lot of folks make a big mess of a fairly simple procedure. They wind up chasing little shards of eggshell around the mixing bowl. Or worse; they don't chase them and then find them later cooked up in their scrambled eggs. They get egg goop all over the counter, the bowl, and/or their hands. And it's all so unnecessary if you just master the proper technique.

Kids get a big thrill out of learning to break an egg. I know I did. I started cooking eggs when I was seven or eight years old, but my mother always cracked them for me until I developed the manual dexterity to do it myself. A lot of shattered shells and gooey messes ensued before I got it right. But eventually I did. I have a young nephew who sometimes backcombs my fur with his know-it-all attitude. I remember when he came to me all full of himself because he had learned to break an egg. He proceeded to demonstrate his new-found skill, a laborious, painstaking two-handed process that took nearly a minute to accomplish. Then, with bratty arrogance, he challenged me to match his feat: “Betcha you can't do it that good.” I know I shouldn't have taken the bait. It was mean and I really shouldn't have done it. But I did.....he was such a ripe little target. I snatched up an egg and opened it in about two seconds using one hand, leaving him deflated and crestfallen. Not to be a total jerk about it, I told him to keep practicing and I'd teach him how to do it that way after he got a little better at the two-handed method.

So let's start there. With two hands. This is really the best way to open an egg if you are going to separate the yolk from the white or if you are concerned about the yolk remaining intact. It's not as fast and as flashy as the one-handed method, but it's a lot safer and more reliable.

First, let's address the issue of cracking the egg. Ya gotta crack it before ya can break it. There are two camps when it comes to egg cracking: the “flat surface” camp and the “edge of the bowl” camp. Most people who learned by watching their mothers or grandmothers tend to fall into the bowl edge category. People who were taught by a culinary instructor are generally flat surface crackers because that's really the “approved” and “correct” way to do it. I cringe when I see supposedly trained TV chefs cracking eggs on bowls. They sure didn't learn that at the CIA or Le Cordon Bleu.

It's not just some senseless rule that chef instructors came up with. The people who study such things have found that when you strike an egg against a sharp surface – like the edge of a bowl – you run a greater risk of driving fragments of the shell into the interior of the egg. This is a big deal not just for the annoyance factor but because of the potential for carrying bacteria from the outside inward. All commercially produced eggs in the US are washed before they ever hit the cartons, so the risk is minimal. Not so much with farm fresh eggs, though, which usually just get a wipe down to remove anything obviously nasty. It's kind of a two-edged sword. The reason Americans refrigerate eggs while Europeans don't is because of that washing process. When American eggs are washed before packaging, the shells are stripped not only of potentially harmful bacteria but of the egg's natural protective coating as well. That's why you have to refrigerate 'em. They're naked. Anything yucky they encounter after they're washed can more easily penetrate their unprotected porous shells. Europeans – and Americans who get their eggs straight out of the henhouse – can get by with leaving them in a basket on the counter rather than in the fridge because their natural coating is still intact. And so are any bacteria lurking about on the outside waiting to get driven inside by an injudicious crack on a sharp surface. So, from a “better safe than sorry” standpoint, it's generally just better practice to crack an egg on a flat surface.

That said, the objective when you strike the egg is not to bust it wide open. You just want to dimple it. Pick up the egg so that it's positioned in the palm of your hand. The pointy end should rest against your thumb and the blunt end should be cradled by your ring and pinky fingers. With the contact point in the middle of the egg, give it a gentle tap or two to break just the outer shell while leaving the inner membrane intact. Now, turn the egg so you can see the dimple you've made. With the unbroken surface of the egg resting against the index, middle, and ring fingers of both hands, position your thumbs on either side of the dimple. Position the egg over the bowl or pan and gently press inward with your thumbs to penetrate the shell. Then gently pry the two halves of the shell apart and allow the contents of the egg to drop into whatever receptacle you're using. Notice I said “gentle” or “gently” three times in the description. It's an egg, okay? Don't go all Incredible Hulk on it and smash it. Handle it gently.

Not all egg shells are created equal. Depending on breed and feed, some shells are thicker than others. Other than the fact that they are on a natural diet, I don't know what my farmer feeds his chickens or what breeds he has but some of them produce some prodigiously thick shells. And I find brown eggs to generally have thicker shells than white ones. Thick shells aren't necessarily a bad thing; you'll get a lot fewer fragments because they tend to break cleaner. I've had some store-bought white eggs crumble under the slightest pressure and make a real mess. It just takes a little extra effort and care to crack a thicker shell.

As I said, if you're trying to keep the yolk intact for poaching or sunny side up or something, the more deliberate two-handed method is probably best. A little slower, maybe, but better. However, if you're all about speed and action and don't care about how the yolk winds up, the one-handed method is for you. If you're going to scramble your eggs or just dump them in a bowl for beating, who cares if the yolk is broken, right?

Now here is where manual dexterity comes into play. I know people who are ambidextrous and can break two eggs at once, one in each hand. Not me. I'm so right-handed it's an affliction. Anything I try to break with my left hand winds up spattered on my elbow. So, unless you're among the gifted, stick with using your dominant hand. The problem now is that breaking an egg with one hand is a lot easier to do than it is to describe. But I'll try.

Holding the egg as above, crack the shell the same way. Only this time, keep the egg cradled in your hand. Once you've got the crack started, the breaking motion is done mostly with a twist of your thumb and forefinger. I've heard it described as sort of like the motion you'd use to snap your fingers. You should be holding the bottom part of the shell against your palm with your middle, ring, and pinky fingers while the top part of the shell is manipulated by your index finger and your thumb. I've also seen it described as being like the motion you would employ to pop the top on a soda can with one hand. See? It's really easy to do, but harder than hell to describe. Tell you what: I saw a tip online where you hold two ping pong balls together in your hand with a quarter wedged between them. If you can separate the balls and make the quarter fall out, you can break an egg one-handed.

By the way, kids aren't the only ones who get a thrill out of learning to break eggs. Andrew Knowlton, James Beard Award-winning critic, blogger and restaurant editor for Bon Appétit magazine, recently did a feature where he worked his way through twenty-fours hours at an Atlanta Waffle House. (You can find the story and video here: https://www.yahoo.com/food/its-not-every-day-you-see-a-renowned-four-star-113433461996.html) Besides a new appreciation for short-order cooks, Andrew also gained a new skill: at age 39, he can now break eggs one-handed. He can also make a mean waffle, but that's another part of the story.

Now go forth, break some eggs and make some omelets. Or maybe a nice frittata. Oooo......scrambled eggs sound good about now.......or poached.....or over easy. No, Eggs Benedict......or perhaps a Croque Madame. How about egg salad........?

Eggs Are Back! So Eat a Frittata

Viva l'Uovo!

Once upon a time, we lived in a world where people simply ate. They ate what was available; they ate what was fresh; they ate what was local; they ate what nature provided. Nobody counted calories or milligrams of this, that, or the other. They ate things they liked just because they liked them. And, by and large, they were a happy people who lived long and healthy lives. And then food science was invented and it all went to hell in a hand basket.

Okay, that's not entirely fair. Food science came about because we started treating our food like a science project. We “enhanced” it, we “fortified” it, we “processed” and “preserved” it and filled it full of “additives.” And in so doing, we created a society of the most obese, disease-ridden people ever to populate the planet. In an effort to safeguard our waning health, food scientists came along to help guide us down the righteous paths of good nutrition. Unfortunately, as so often happens with trailblazers and pathmakers, they didn't know where they were going themselves. They were just winging it based on the information they had and hoping for the best. And this has led to a lot of dead ends on the ol' nutrition trail. Like Daniel Boone and Kit Carson of old, food scientists have had to do a lot of backtracking and reevaluating. “Damn! Where did that mountain come from?” “That river's not supposed to be here!” “Ooops! Bigger stretch of desert than I thought.” Such is the case with cholesterol.

I'm of an age where cholesterol has been a part of my consciousness for about as long as I can remember. Maybe less so when I was a little kid, but certainly a major factor in my adult diet. Cholesterol has been the big, bad, bugaboo for about fifty years now. HDL (high density lipoproteins) were the good guys that would save you from coronary disease while LDL (low density lipoproteins) and their companion triglycerides would send you down the slippery slope of fat-clogged arteries to a certain early demise. Dietary science from the '60s, '70s, and '80s said it, and we all believed it.

Well.....not all. I was one of those who always wondered how Grandma cooked everything in lard and Grandpa chowed down on a half-dozen eggs and bacon every day and they both made it well into their 80s. My great-grandmother lived to just a few months shy of 100 and she never counted a calorie or monitored a milligram in her life. What did they do right that everybody else seems to be doing wrong?

In the first place, they ate what was available; they ate what was fresh; they ate what was local; they ate what nature provided. They ate things they liked just because they liked them. And, by and large, they were happy people who lived long and healthy lives. Nobody tried to embalm them with preservatives before they were dead. The fact that they knew what arms and legs were intended for also helped. Can you imagine? They actually had to get up and walk across the room to change the channel on the TV!

Anyway, back to cholesterol. The fat world shook the other day when the nation's top health cops at the FDA decided that maybe cholesterol has gotten a bum rap. Old research has been reexamined and rethought and new findings find that eating foods like eggs, butter, steak, shrimp, and lobster may not significantly impact the level of cholesterol in the blood or increase the risk of heart disease. Hence, they are recommending the removal of cholesterol from the list of “nutrients of concern.”

After analyzing studies and data from the '70s and '80s, nutritionists now realize that all the health warnings about cholesterol shoved down our throats over the years actually caused people to shift to foods high in carbohydrates and sugar, which, conversely, created more inflammatory and cardiac disease processes – and obesity – than the original culprit. Turns out it wasn't naturally occurring fats that were causing all the problems, but our wonderful new chemically created trans fats and refined oils that were killing us off in droves.

In fact, your body needs cholesterol in order to function. That's why the liver produces it naturally and in greater quantities than dietary intake provides. And that's why the new studies are saying, “don't sweat the cholesterol. It's not that big a factor.”

Wha-a-a-a-a-t! Do you mean all those disgusting egg white omelets I've been eating for forty years were all for nothing? That I've been choking down “I Can't Believe It's Not Butter” for decades when I could have been basking in the real thing? In the interest of full disclosure, I wouldn't actually touch either of those things if you paid me to, but yeah, that's about the size of it.

I'm happy as a frog in a pond full of lily pads about butter. As a native son of America's Dairyland, I wouldn't put margarine, that disgusting chemical concoction foisted off by the French on an unsuspecting world, on my table to save my life. Ironic, because margarine has recently been shown to be a substance that will kill you more quickly than bad ol' butter ever would. See? Food science at work. “Butter is bad and margarine is good. Oh......wait.......margarine is bad and butter is good. Or is it butter can be good if it's got olive oil in it and.....and....margarine is bad.....unless it's made with healthy fat like.......oh, never mind!” And let me tell you a little secret; skim milk has never passed my lips, either. I live by the rule “If my grandmother wouldn't recognize it as food, I won't eat it.” And in her day, skim milk was something they fed to cattle and pigs. (You younger folks may have to amend that rule and extend it back to your great-grandmother.)

But I'm happiest of all about the revived reputation of eggs. I've always liked eggs. Not six at a time like Grandpa, but I can do justice to one or two at a sitting. And even at the height of the hysteria when egg-phobic ninny-whiners were out there trying to suck the life out of every egg dish by insisting that the yolks were gonna kill us all deader than hammers and that we should all be eating “whites only,” I refused to succumb. There's a cardinal rule in the kitchen; “there's flavor in fat.” And when it comes to eggs, fat's where it's at. All the “killer” cholesterol is in the yolk, but so is all the flavor. Try as I might, I could never stomach the idea of eating a pile of bland egg whites. Not that I tried very hard, mind you. No, indeed. I chose to brave a premature death by eating two or three whole eggs a week, usually with a deadly glass of whole milk and perhaps a couple of lethal slices of buttered toast. Buttered, not slathered with faux-healthy “spread.” And I'm on the cusp of my seventh decade with blood cholesterol that falls within normal limits.

Eggs have long been called “nature's perfect food.” And there's a reason for that that transcends all the junk science we've been forced to endure. Granted, egg whites have some extra proteins in them. Beyond that, they are nutritionally worthless. All the good stuff is in the heretofore forbidden yolk. The beautiful golden center of an egg contains loads of the fat-soluble vitamins A, D, E, and K. All the carotenoids, lutein, and choline in an egg are in the yolk, as well as most of the calcium, iron, phosphorus, zinc, thiamin, folate,and vitamins B6 and B12. So go ahead and listen to the idiots who tell you to throw out the yolk. Better yet, throw out the whole egg and just eat the carton. It's fat-free and you'll get lots of fiber that way.

So now that eggs are officially okay again, let's celebrate with a recipe for the grandaddy of all Italian egg dishes, the frittata. This is one of my favorites.

FRITTATA AL FORNO CON MOZZARELLA

(Baked Frittata with Mozzarella)

Ingredients:

6 eggs

1/4 cup whole milk

salt and pepper, to taste

1 sprig fresh Italian parsley

6 fresh basil leaves

2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

8 oz mozzarella, thinly sliced

1 plum tomato, cut into thin rounds

Method:

Preheat oven to 350°.

Combine the eggs and the milk and beat until frothy; add the salt and pepper.

Chop together the parsley and the basil and add to the egg mixture.

Heat the oil in a medium ovenproof skillet over medium heat. Pour in the beaten egg mixture and cook until the bottom sets, 4 or 5 minutes. Remove from heat and add a layer of cheese, then dot with slices of tomato.

Place the skillet in the oven and bake until the eggs are set and the cheese has melted, 15 to 20 minutes.

Serve immediately.

Makes 6 servings

Buon appetito!

Eggs Finally Get a Break

Have you ever noticed that the stuff we all like to eat is the stuff the government “experts” say is going to kill us and that the things they say we should consume in order to extend our lives are the things that we'd all rather die than eat? I mean, do they ever really know what they're talking about?

Case in point: the Federal Food Folks have suddenly done a one-eighty and now the once loathed and hated egg is back in the good graces of the “experts” who formerly condemned it as the source of all the evil, artery-clogging, heart stopping cholesterol in our diets.

“Eggs are bad for you,” a generation was told. “Don't eat more than one or two a week or you'll just drop over dead of a heart attack.” “The cholesterol in eggs will kill you.” “The only good part of an egg is the white. The yolks are deadly.” Etc., etc. And throngs of people believed this nonsense. After all, if science says it, it must be true. Never mind logic. Never mind the fact that humankind has been consuming eggs since the first curious caveman decided to give the hard ovoid object that dropped from the nether regions of a chicken a try. I actually gag at the thought of how many eggs my grandfather used to eat for breakfast nearly every day. I like eggs, but that man could flat wear out a laying hen. And he ultimately died of a heart attack. But he was in his eighties and had been healthy as a horse up until shortly before his death. I suppose junk science would have allotted him a lifespan on a par with Methuselah's if he had just laid off the eggs.

The “experts” who are now being forced to eat their words about eggs are the same “experts” who spent years screaming about the carcinogenic properties of saccharin. They fed egregious amounts of the stuff to lab rats, who ultimately developed bladder cancer. Mind you, nobody could ever directly link the saccharin to the cancer, but that didn't stop the junk scientists from claiming that anybody who drank a saccharin-sweetened soft drink was gonna just turn up toes and die from bladder cancer. Of course, not wanting to see anybody die from cancer caused by something they voluntarily ingested, the Good Food Fairies in Washington waved their magic wands and made saccharin go away.

I had an aunt in those days who absolutely lived on “Tab,” a saccharin-sweetened soft drink. I'll bet the woman drank a gallon of it a day for most of the 1960s. And, sure enough, she died of cancer. Oh, her bladder was fine. You see, she also smoked two packs of cigarettes every day and it was her lungs that did her in. Funny about that big blind spot in the vision of those government officials in charge of banning things that are hazardous to our health.

Anyway, eggs are back! Let the people rejoice! And not only are they back, but they're actually good for you! What's the rationale behind this miraculous restoration? To what do the “scientists” and “researchers” attribute this marvelous recovery?

“Duhhhh, we dunno.”

Wait a minute! You were so sure for so long that eggs were going to kill us all, and now you tell us that they're going to un-kill us based on nothing more than, “Ooops! Sorry about that!?”

That's about the size of it. The government's new dietary guidelines, which they change more regularly than they change their collective underwear, now recommend eating eggs because they are lower in cholesterol than previously believed and higher in vitamin D. So, backpedaling vigorously away from the “more than one or two a week will kill you” stance, the Federal Food Folks now say that an egg a day is A-okay!

Seems the guys in the lab coats recently went out to a dozen farms around the country and tickled a bunch of chickens. Then they sent the eggs off to be analyzed. Lo and behold! They found out that a large egg only contains about 185 milligrams of cholesterol, down considerably from the 215 milligrams in the eggs they tested ten years ago. And vitamin D levels in those eggs rose significantly from 25 IU (International Units) to 41 IU.

So here comes the USDA doing the “Church Lady” sketch from Saturday Night Live: “Never mind.” Eggs are evil? “Never mind.” An omelet will be your undoing? “Never mind.” Throw away the yolk and only eat the egg white? “Never mind.” One or two eggs a week? “Never mind.”

You mean now it's okay for me to eat the part of the egg that actually contains all the nutrients? The part the “experts” have been telling me to avoid?

“Duhh, yep. That's right. Sorry about the misunderstanding.”

See, the egg people have been telling us for years that the egg is nature's perfect food. Remember “the Incredible Edible Egg?” They've been trying to talk us all down from the ledge to which the panic mongers drove us by reminding us that, yes, eggs contain cholesterol, but the body requires certain levels of dietary cholesterol in order to function. You can't just eliminate cholesterol from your diet and still be healthy. But that's not what the fanatic fringe wanted to hear, so they just kept on beating the egg, so to speak.

The “experts” formerly on the anti-egg side are at a loss to explain their new findings, saying that maybe there is something fundamentally different about the way chickens are fed or bred or something. They literally do not know. But at least they've owned up to their mistake.

"Evidence suggests that one egg per day does not result in increased blood cholesterol levels, nor does it increase the risk of cardiovascular disease in healthy people." Thus sayeth the current Dietary Guidelines for Americans.

A large egg contains 70 calories, 185 mg of cholesterol, 6 g of protein, 4.7 g of total fat, 1.6 g of saturated fat, 71 mg of sodium, and 41 IU of vitamin D. That last part is particularly important since there are very few food sources that contain measurable amounts of vitamin D.

Among the other things people have been frightened into giving up all these years is choline, an essential nutrient that contributes to fetal brain development and helps prevent birth defects. Choline also aids brain function in adults by maintaining the structure of brain cell membranes, and it is a key component of the neuro-transmitter that helps relay messages from the brain through nerves to the muscles. Muscles which, by the way, are aided in their development by the protein contained in eggs. And eggs contain the antioxidants lutein and zeaxanthin, which help prevent macular degeneration. Eggs also contain B vitamins, vitamin E, vitamin A, potassium, folate, thiamin, riboflavin, calcium, phosphorous, magnesium, iron, and zinc.

And guess what? Most of those goodies are contained in the yolk, the part the “experts” have been telling us to throw away. The only thing the white is really good for is protein, which it splits pretty much evenly with the yolk. (3.6 g in the white vs 2.7 in the yolk.)

I don't know what all this means for the panic peddlers or for the makers of egg substitutes and I don't really care since I never bought into the hoopla to begin with and I've never used an egg substitute in my life. I keep going back to the logical part of my mind, which, as I said at the outset, has always told me that people have been eating eggs for millenia. And yet we have survived as a species, so how bad can they be?

Does all this mean that I will now go out and eat eggs six at a time like my grandfather did? No. I'll stick to having two scrambled eggs for Sunday brunch and maybe an occasional poached egg during the week. And I'll continue to use whole eggs in cooking and baking, just as I always have. Only now I get to stick my tongue out and go, “nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah” while I do it.

I eagerly await the day when the Federal Food Fools figure out that man has been consuming the smoked flesh of pigs since before recorded history began. Maybe then they'll stop bitching about nitrates and nitrites and I'll be able to enjoy my bacon along with my newly approved eggs.