Poach Me Deadly, a noir drama of passion and poultry, was inspired by far too many movies to count, and by Chopper’s delicious Eggs en Plastic recipe, which you’ll find at the end of this tale. Chopper’s recipe was inspired by a passage in Anthony Bourdain’s A Cook’s Tour, wherein Bourdain describes a chef using truffle oil and plastic wrap to poach an egg. For more hard boiled adventures (and more egg puns than you can shake a whisk at), visit this month’s End of Month Eggs on Toast Extravaganza over at Dispensing Happiness. Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that some of the most egregious jokes in Poach Me Deadly are entirely Chopper’s fault.

(more…)

I, um, really apologize for that. It came to me in the shower, and
I. Just. Couldn’t. Stop.

(For more eggy hits from the 70s, check in with Dispensing Happiness for September’s EoMEoTE round up!)

Great Moments in Divination, chapter XVII

It is a little known fact, not written in the annals of magic, that Sybil Trelawney, professor of divination, has made not two but three accurate prophecies during her sixteen years at Hogwarts. As the third prophecy was about the ingredients of Hagrid’s breakfast one Sunday morning in late September and not about He Who Must Not Be Named, most dismiss it as mere coincidence and continue to suggest that Professor Trelawney, great-great granddaughter of the illustrious Cassandra Trelawney, is a fraud.

We here at Grumblebein’s Society for the Restoration of Magical Standing believe that this is poppycock. Sybil Trelawney’s predictive powers are quite strong, and this fact is no better demonstrated than by the brief breakfast anecdote that follows.

Trelawney, as we all know, is quite an admirer of tea. Not only do the leaves serve her divination needs, but she drinks it daily by the gallon. On the particular September morning in question, however, calamity struck: she ran clean out. So, being a woman of sound mind and infinite resource, she bundled herself in scarves and sashes (it was quite breezy that day), and trundled down to Hagrid’s hut to seek out a fresh supply.

Hagrid, it turned out, hadn’t a speck of tea about him. He was, in fact, making Turkish coffee and toasting slices of bread. He invited Trelawney to join him, and so she did, nearly knocking over a jar of paprika as she took her place at the table, unaware that this acceptance would lead to yet another Great Moment in Divination.

Now, it is a little known fact (though perhaps slightly more known than Sybil Trelawney’s Third Prophecy) that the grounds of a thick cup of Turkish coffee are unsurpassed as tools of divination. And so, it came as no shock to the expert clairvoyant, when, upon setting down her empty cup next to an earthenware pot of yogurt and a basket of eggs, she had a most singular vision.

The coffee grounds, it seemed, had formed themselves into a crystal clear picture of the future, thus prompting Sybil Trelawney to proclaim:

“When the clock chimes thrice three and sleep is vanquished, four nestlings unhatched shall join with four slices of bread unburnt and two cups yogurt unspoilt, and the eating of dishes from far off lands shall be attended by the consumption of auspicious red powders and curious culinary herbs in small amounts and all will rejoice in its grand flavor. Be warned!”

Hagrid, oblivious to the significance of Trelawney’s pronouncement simply said, “Well of course I’ve got four eggs and four pieces of toast and yogurt and paprika. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are dropping by for a fine Turkish breakfast of Cilbir!”

It is regrettable that Hagrid was unable to recognize Trelawney’s Third Prophecy for what it was, for then we at Grumblebein’s Society for the Restoration of Magical Standing would have his account for the archives as well as hers, and the archives (as well as Trelawney’s reputation) would be richer for it.
One curious footnote: When Sybil Trelawney related this anecdote to us for our records she added a phrase we have yet to decipher. We include it here in the hope that some other scholar of magic might recognize its import. In fact, it may be that this Third Prophecy has much more about it than a simple prediction of breakfast. It may be that this Third Prophecy tells of the ultimate demise of the Dark Lord himself.

The phrase, which Trelawney uttered in a deep and portentous voice, was thus:

“Be warned, I say unto you. For when the days near thirty-one, it’s all to do with EoMEoTE!“

–Herophile Trelawney, Chief Council for Culinary Conduits of Clairvoyance, Grumblebein’s Society for the Restoration of Magical Standing

Cilbir — a delightful Turkish dish of poached eggs, garlic yogurt sauce and paprika butter. Serve with bread or toast.

Turkish coffee optional.

End of the Month Eggs on Toast

The Limerick Edition

First, the limerick:

For this, our new culin’ry quest,
We’ve cooked up some eggs, as you’ve guessed.
We took bread for this vittle,
And carved out the middle
And behold, we’ve got Eggs in a Nest!

Next, a bit of bonus free-form poetry, ala Geisel, with a brief nod to our favorite food nerd:

Eggs in a Nest, Eggs on a Hat, Toad in a Hole, (what’s up with that?)
Eyehole Sandwiches, Hole in One, Eggs in a Basket are second to none!
Secret Eggs, Egyptian Eggs, everyone begs for Gashouse Eggs!
Add tomatoes, red and gory, you’ve got Eggs in Purgatory!
The only constant is the bread, with a hole in the middle for the eggs to bed,
So carve your bread and add your treats,
Eggs in toast are sure good eats!

Next, a recipe:

Bonus artsy photo of Chopper Dave at work:

And last, and most likely least, a bonus culinary “Nantucket” limerick which has nothing at all to do with eggs:

A hungry young monk from Nantucket
Was strolling the beach with his bucket.
When far from his cloister,
He cried, “Look! An Oyster!
If I had a knife I could shuck it!”