Hard Boiled Eggs

When we were first married, I was making deviled eggs. I had helped my Mom make them, so I wasn't completely inexperienced in boiling eggs!

I had the eggs cooking in the pot and all of a sudden, I heard a small chirping sound. I looked at the pot in surprise. Surely that sweet baby chick sound couldn't be coming from inside there!
I heard it again...and then again.

I followed the sound and sure enough, one of my little boiling eggs had a baby chick in it (I was just sure of it). I quickly turned off the stove and contemplated my options: I could crack open the eggs - but what would I find? A partially boiled baby chick? And what would I do with whatever it was that I found? And how many eggs would I have to ruin before I found the 'chirping' one?- or I could throw them out; or I could keep cooking them - surely there wasn't an actual chick in one of my eggs. Oh, what to do...what to do?!

I figured it was just my imagination and turned on the stove again. As the water started to boil, there came that sweet little chick's chirps again crying out to me for mercy. I called my husband at work - surely he would know what to do.

Big mistake. He laughed, his co-workers laughed, and I laughed too (so they would be laughing with me, not at me ;)

"That's not even possible," he told me, "one of the eggs must have a crack in it and that is just the sound of air escaping."

Well, that sounded logical! Why didn't I think of that?

To erase the smallest doubt still in my mind, I raised each egg with a spoon to my ear. When I found the culprit, I examined it all over. Sure enough, there was the small crack with with itty bitty water bubbles coming out of it.

Phew! No little baby chicken half boiled to death crying out to me for help. What a relief!

To this day, every time I boil eggs, I remember this incident and I have to smile to myself and shake my head! Silly, Silly girl! :)

(Honest, it really did sound like a little chirping chick!)

In The Beginning...

I am sure that I am like most college kids. When I arrived at college, I knew how to make a mean batch of mac 'n cheese, a decent bowl of ramen noodles and I could open a can of soup or a box of cereal like a pro. Beyond that, however, I did not have a clue how to make anything that wasn't processed. I loved to eat though and thought that the situation wasn't acceptable.

I couldn't actually admit that at 18 I didn't really know how to cook anything. So, I took careful notes about how my roommates prepared their food. Mostly, they were eating the same things I was. One day, I got lucky. A roommate of mine got out a package of raw chicken. That got my attention. I saw her bring a pot of water to a boil on the stove. Easy; I did that every day for mac 'n cheese. She then took a piece of chicken and dropped it into the boiling water. She let it cook for 13 minutes (I timed her) and then took it out. Voila...cooked chicken. I didn't take any interest in what she did next with it. I had gotten my answer. I could totally cook chicken!

So, the next time I was home alone, I got out my chicken and boiled it. I was very proud of myself and excited to feast on something I had created that wasn't from a box or can. I sat down, mouth watering and took a bite. It tasted like...boiled chicken. It wasn't horrible, but it was bland and a little stringy. I got out my salt and went to town on that sucker.

I always thought my roommate was an idiot after that and went back to my cold cereal and canned soup. (I wonder what she actually made with her boiled chicken...)