Alton Brown has warned us over and over again on his famous cooking show, Good Eats. The only unitasker he has in his kitchen is the fire extinguisher. Don’t buy an expensive appliance or gadget that does only ONE thing.
My in-laws apparently watch late-night TV, because they bought the Eggie. Yes, I snorted when I heard the word, too. Ol’ Alton would have thrown them in the trash just for the name. But, suffice it to say, they’re a cookin’ gadget, like the George Foreman Grill, only if you don’t like something called an Eggie, nobody will sock you in the face.
While we’re chatting here, I’ll admit to you that Eggie sounds like what family members would call Humpty Dumpty. And that sumbitch eggman scares me just a little. I mean, NOBODY should have a face that big. And how’s he reach his pants to drop trou when he has to go to the bathroom?
Anyway. That last paragraph was free. Let me return to the main story which is about the Auspicious Eggie, which my in-laws gave us while on Christmas vacation.
I decided to try them yesterday, despite having 2 strikes against the product for the creepy name. First, they’re rather fidgety. they come in 4 pieces. A top piece, a ring with screw-threads, a bottom piece, and a little lid on top. they’re all made from hefty clear plastic (dishwasher safe–do NOT microwave). what you do is butter (or oil, or PAM) the inside of the eggie, assemble it, crack an egg, and dump the contents into the precious Eggie receptacle. Then you put on the lid, and boil the sucker, Eggie and all, in a pot for 15 minutes. I had to change pots 3 times before I found one the right size. For little guys, Eggies take up a lot of space.
By contrast, how does one go about making a hard boiled egg in a non-fussy fashion? Fill a pot with water. Insert egg. Boil awhile. Cool, peel, and eat.
So the first Eggie broke open about 5 minutes into the process, making a thick scum of hot water and eggwhite. The butter-residue left oil all over the pot. I created an enormous foaming omelet (or meringue) by boiling a cracked egg. OK, I’ll admit, there are ways not to cook eggs. You don’t deep fry one. That’s a heart attack waiting to happen right there. You don’t microwave one. Mofo is gonna ‘splode all over your nice clean micro-nuker, guaranteed. And now, I can add to the list “you don’t make one with an Eggie.”
I refrigerated the little eggs, which looked suspiciously like the hats Dan Aykroyd and Jane Curtin wore for Coneheads skits (they loved chicken embryos too, you know). My elder son was astonished: “How did you boil HALF an egg?”
That’s a good question, son. Don’t bother. I should have told him I cut the raw egg in half with a knife, and threw it in the pot becuase I wasn’t hungry enough for a WHOLE boiled egg. But I’m not much of a smart-aleck that way. As my blog readers all know, I never say anything rude or controversial. so I told him the real answer: “Grandma gave us a really stupid kitchen tool that Alton Brown would hate us for owning.”
Our Alton, who art in Georgia, awesome be thy show. Give us this day our daily Eats, and forgive us our unitaskers, as we forgive those who unitask against us.