but an oeuf about our weekend

In his own blog, Jeff failed to mention that on Sunday he cooked for us a variation of Jacques Pepin’s Les Oeufs Jeannette, which it turns out he had first and last prepared one year ago, on Mother’s Day 2003, and on the entry for which was one of my first comments, in which I volunteered to be a guinea pig for his culinary exploits. An offer that still stands, and that should be made easier by the fact that we now live together. But while he does cook often, this was one of the very rare (I can count them on one hand, I’m pretty sure) occasions that he has cooked for me from scratch; not that I’ve done any better, to be sure.

The eggs were very delicious, though we now have so much leftover parsley that Jeff was suggesting that I put a spring of it in my drink, and sprinkling it over my ice cream. And who cares if his plan to create a “quick” brunch around them ending up taking several hours to complete; after a couple of mimosas, who’s complaining? Besides, in the interim I and my superpowered, superbodied alteregos stayed busy saving Paragon City from the evil Circle of Thorns and the notorious Fifth Column.

2 thoughts on “but an oeuf about our weekend

  1. Now, now, I never claimed it would be “quick.” (I did have to go to the supermarket first.) Who invented deviled eggs, anyway? Oh, wait, never mind.

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