When I was three I swallowed and choked on a piece of shell of a soft-boiled egg. No great drama, I survived just fine but it did sort of put me off soft-boiled eggs….soldiers or no soldiers.
And I'd kind of forgotten about soft-boiled eggs until today when both Dylan and Zelda declared a desire for boiled eggs for breakfast…..inspired in no small part by some nifty Alessi egg cup holders my wife Jowa got them recently.
Soft boil an egg so that it's perfect for dipping soldiers (or toast sticks as Dylan put it rather unconscientiously objective) how hard could that be?
A lot harder than I thought I can tell you. Even after consulting multiple recipe sites the first two eggs went straight into the food recycling bin having been rejected by the kids. Apparently, erring on 4 minutes was not a smart move.
I realise this might seem ridiculous to many of you. Why's this Gastrokid guy – who has no issues experimenting with global cuisine on a daily basis – struggling to boil an egg? Well, like all cooking, it's all about what you know and what you feel comfortable with. Scrambled, fried, poached and in an omelet…..eggs hold no fear. But soft-boiled….this was a journey into the unknown.
Cooking, however, also is about learning from mistakes. and I had better luck with the second batch. Boiling water for five minutes seemed to do the job and Dylan devoured his egg (round two). Zelda? Well I think she was just bored by my incompetence and decided she wanted cereal by the time I was ready with breakfast.
Not to worry, I ate hers and my first soft-boiled egg in perhaps three decades. It was delicious!