Never underestimate a boiled egg!

My friend, Kerry, just got back from Ireland where she's been for a full two weeks over the Christmas break.

"Do you know what I had for breakfast every morning?" she asked me. Rhetorical Question. "A boiled egg, Brown Bread and some jam."

It's been an age since I've had a boiled egg, and it's such an easy and quick thing to do. Boil the water, pop in the egg, and 3 - 4 minutes later depending on whether you like it soft or hard, you've got yourself some bit of breakfast. Put the bread in the toaster while you're waiting for the egg, get the coffee going (or the tea) and ...voila! C'est tout simple.

When we were small we had a boiled egg every morning for breakfast before we went to school. I ate my egg without complaint. My sister, on the other hand, hated them. She hated them so much that she hid them. Behind curtains, in book shelves, inside containers, all over the dining room (fortunately she never thought to hide them further afield). She hid them until the smell of stale eggs blew her cover. My mother is the one I think who noticed it first... a strange smell, not very pleasant, and went in search. She found the eggs all right. In all of their little hiding places. And who was the one who caught the blame? Not my sister. Me.

(Am not sure if this little vignette will encourage or dissuade you from trying a boiled egg for breakfast any time soon... but there you have it. Very easy and delicious with some fresh pepper and some Maldon Sea Salt crumpled on the plate.)