Exploding egg whites—who knew?

I certainly never knew an egg could explode in my frying pan!

But that was just what happened to me this morning. I’ve cooked eggs for breakfast for years and never had such an experience. I’ve had eggs bubble up and pop and sputter in the pan, but this was different. It was positively explosive, even audibly. 

I like my eggs over-easy, but sometimes that causes the yolks to break. A broken yolk ruins my day, so I’ve begun covering the pan to allow the moisture of the egg to condense and essentially cook the yolk. Done right, the result is much like an over-easy egg, but guarantees the yolk remains in-tact. 

In this morning’s incident, just as soon as I picked up the lid, one of the eggs blew up, splattering onto the lid, spraying my upper arm, and on as well as around the stove. Oh, and the yolk was broken on one of the two eggs. The other was undaunted.

While I’m not accustomed to taking photos of dirty dishes, the picture at left, shows the remnants of my egg explosion. Some splattered in the pan, cooked by residual heat after I turned off the burner. There were portions of egg white on the counter and splattered onto the frying pan lid. The only thing not pictured was my arm where the bulk of the egg landed like shrapnel. I wiped it away quickly so I wouldn’t be burned.


What the heck happened?

My eggs were seemingly fresh, just purchased from a store that sells eggs from free-range chickens raised by local farmers.

One of the first things I did was to Google exploding eggs. Most problems with exploding eggs are associated with hard-boiled eggs in the microwave without puncturing the yolk to let the steam escape. That is a very different problem, since egg yolks condense when heated while egg whites expand. From what I can glean, this isn’t as unique as I thought. Simply, fresh eggs contain more moisture. The longer they sit, as do store-bought eggs, the more moisture is absorbed. I plan to exercise caution with my next breakfast adventure, including turning down the heat.

By the way, despite the broken yoke and somewhat unkempt egg white, breakfast was delicious.

Great fall breakfast

There is no better way to start out a dreary autumn morning, than with a hearty breakfast. This morning, I made my all-time favorite. I could eat this for breakfast, or for a snack, or for dessert even. It is just that versatile and that good. It is Big Apple Pancake.

The version that I make is an adaptation from a recipe by Gale Gand, the pastry chef who delighted us with her delectable goodies on the Food Network’s Sweet Dreams in the early 2000’s. For me, she took the intimidation out of baking. She made me think I too could make delicious deserts. The recipe is as follows:

Ingredients:

3 tbsps unsalted butter
2 large apples, peeled, cored and sliced ¼” thick
¼ cup light brown sugar, packed
3 eggs
1 tsp granulated sugar
Pinch salt
½ cup milk
½ cup all-purpose flour
¼ tsp cinnamon
2 lemon wedges

Preheat oven to 450º F. In a large ovenproof skillet (preferably with curved sides), melt 2 tbsps of the butter over medium heat. Add apple slices and cook, stirring until tender; about 10 minutes. Add 2 tbsps of the brown sugar and stir to combine.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, sugar, salt, milk, and flour. Pour this batter over the apples in the skillet, transfer to the oven, and bake until puffy; about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, mix the cinnamon and remaining 2 tbsps brown sugar. Cut the remaining tbsp. of butter into pieces. When the pancake puffs, remove from the oven, dot with butter, sprinkle cinnamon sugar, and return to the oven to bake until browned, about 10 minutes more. As the pancake comes out of the oven, squeeze the lemon wedges over the top. Serve in wedges right out of the pan.

My life is becoming all about healthy food

My idea of a perfect breakfast 

Despite this not being a perfect picture, this is an image of a perfect breakfast.

It consists of two eggs over-easy, yolks in tact, swimming in hot sauce. The fruit are fresh, organic, homegrown peaches, I picked myself.

I've decided, that in my quest to eat healthier, I would forgo the toast with butter and jelly for a piece of fresh fruit to go with my eggs. I eat whatever is available. Sometimes it is fresh strawberries, but with these luscious peaches available, they made for a great morning addition. Who needs bread, gluten, unhealthy genetically-modified wheat when I can eat fresh, organic, homegrown peaches. To me, this is the kind of no-brainer that has become the guiding principle of my eating healthy lifestyle.

Unfortunately, there are setbacks. I am married to a junk-food junkie who still brings me my favorite potato chips from the grocery store. I'm not complaining. It is a lovely gesture. And the bags are the single-serve size. No matter the size, bags of chips are mostly air these days, so I don't think it is hurting me too, too badly. And for some reason, I love the flavor of Ruffles Sour Cream and Cheddar potato chips.

I will atone for eating them by making a great big salad for supper and no lunch. I don't mind combining lunch and supper. That seems to be the natural thing. I'm not really hungry for lunch, especially after such a great, delicious breakfast.

I have a little guilt over those beautiful peaches, though certainly not from eating them. My guilt is from picking them. This is the first year for our tree. I've since read that fruit should be pinched off the first couple years in order to establish the tree's roots. Well, here in Arkansas, I'm not sure I'll get another year, since all the deer in the neighborhood will probably eat the thing--they are eating everything else. I can't really complain too much about that. After all, we moved into their forest. We are fortunate they let us live here.

Because we just planted that peach tree last year. I was astonished that it had flowers this year, let alone

Home grown, organic peaches

peaches. I looked at it every day. Though it was quite a ways from the house, I could see the peach-colored fruit across the yard. I knew the dozen or so peaches on it were starting to get ready to be picked. Every day I looked at it until the other day, I didn't see my peaches. I thought the worst. As it turns out, I didn't see the peaches because the entire top half of the tree was leaning toward the ground, heavy with the ripening fruit. Immediately I picked them. They weren't quite ready, but I figured they could finish ripening on the counter. They did just that. The tree is now standing tall and proud once again, and my breakfast plate has a perfect companion to my over-easy eggs. Bottom line--life is good in the Ozarks.