I eat a lot of eggs. Like probably way more than my fair share, to the point that I’m scared to have my cholesterol tested. Sometimes I eat oatmeal with the sole intention of cleaning out my arteries because I’m pretty sure I can feel bits of scrambled yolk clinging to my blood cells.
It’s not really my fault though. I’m home a lot during the day, and lunch options are scarce in my neighborhood, unless I want to *gasp* get dressed and sit down to a three course meal. That seems extreme, even for my appetite, so I often turn to the relatively easy, protein rich egg to get me through the day.
Scrambled with cheese and salsa or fried with a good slice of fresh bread, I can’t think of a more satisfying lazy lunch. Sometimes I keep a bowl of those suckers hard boiled in the fridge, telling myself I’m only going to eat the whites as a snack.
What makes this egg habit more problematic is that l’omelette is a standard cafe offering. So even if I do make it out for lunch, I often find my self face to face with the most perfect, pillowy pile of eggs, surely sautéed in a block of unadulterated butter the size of my head. And how can you turn something like that down?
Part of my egg obsession also stems from a craving for good old American crap food, like the transcendent breakfast concoction known as the Egg N Cheese. Preferably cooked on a well loved greasy diner skillet and sandwiched between whole wheat toast or an everything bagel, the Egg N Cheese is the stuff of my dreams. It may be the only food that actually tastes better when Kraft singles are involved. I’m swooning a little bit right now just thinking about eating one.
But back to Paris, where standard breakfast includes coffee and a cigarette and the Egg N Cheese has failed to catch on. Thus I cling to other eggs, and hope cardiac arrest isn’t lurking around the corner.
So you can understand why I wasn’t at all upset when the spicy Chinese beef and broccoli dish I ordered last weekend at dinner came topped with a miniature hard boiled quail egg. It seemed rather odd perched there, and not having much experience with quail eggs, I wondered if it would taste funky.
But it didn’t! It tasted just like an awesome mini egg. You could have made super bite-size deviled eggs with it! Oh the possibilities! I told Husband that if I could get my hands on some quail eggs, I would hard boil 2 dozen of those suckers and pop them like candy.
Then lo and behold: A few days later, while cruising through my regular egg aisle (non refrigerated over here, of course), look what I found:
I feel like only in France would you be able to easily find mass marketed cocktail quail eggs. And I am genuinely elated about that. Tiny Egg N Cheese sandwiches, anyone?
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Definition: Quail. Actually here I think it might refer to a specific quail-like bird from a certain region in France.
Definition: Egg. Eggity egg egg egg. Breakfast lunch and dinner of champions. As in,
“Eating 12 oeufs de caille is like the equivalent of 3 regular eggs, right? So I’ll have a 24 oeuf omelet.”
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Just to let you know….your aunt (moi) is an egg freak too! When I took the Eliza a few years ago to determine that wheat was the culprit regarding my maladies, only to find out that eggs and dairy turned my gastrointestinal system upside down. Giving up dairy (except for goat yogurt) was easy;however, I literally went through egg withdrawals and found myself waking up in the middle of the night crying for an egg!
That is so sad!!!! I will have dedicated my daily plate of scrambled oeufs to you.