On Oeufs (eggs)

Recently, I discussed my ambivalence toward the noble egg. Allow me to happily inform you that the ambivalence has chosen a direction: a deep and abiding passion.

It began with brinner, or breakfast for dinner. I promised it to my husband for a recent date night. I made hashbrown casserole (which was imperfect but decent), and bacon (which normally wins the breakfast food crown as far as I'm concerned), and on a whim, a Julia Child egg dish, recommended as a cure for hangovers by Julie Powell. While we certainly weren't hungover, we were planning on drinking a bit(it was date night, after all). I had the makings of bloody marys for him, and some prosecco for me. We knew it was going to be a good night, but we did not know what would happen with the eggs.

Oh, the eggs. These eggs must be called by their French name, as egg sounds far too harsh. They must be called Oeufs en Cocotte (or Oeufs for short), a short, breathy, soft word. You think I'm being ridiculous? Maybe so, but I've discovered that the egg is in fact incredible and edible, and I'll take my joy in that however I please.

The eggs are very simple. Simpler even than scrambled eggs, especially scrambled eggs a la Rainy Kate, which require copious amounts of vegetables and a little cheese. You bring some water to a simmer in a big, oven-safe sauce pan. You put two ramekins in the saucepan, and pour some cream in the ramekins. Crack two eggs in each ramekins, then cover with a little more cream and dot with butter. Bake the whole thing in the oven until just set, then sprinkle with salt and pepper. Entire time you are required to function: 10 minutes. But the pleasure...

The whites mix with the cream, and get a little gelatinous, or very firm, depending on how much you want them cooked. Most of the time, egg whites don't have a great deal of taste, but egg whites that are mostly cream and a little butter taste like, well, like cream and butter. And the yolks melt in your mouth, with that eggy flavor blended with the cream. Oeufs en Cocotte are like a tiny little bowl of heaven: decadent to eat, and worth the work. Only this slice of heaven is pretty easy to get, and doesn't require any real sacrifice on your part.

Eat oeufs, drink prosecco, and be happy.