I’ve long sung the praises of eggs as the perfect single-serving food: long-lasting (for something perishable, they’re good for weeks on end in the fridge), portion-controlled, easy and quick to cook, even nutritious. (Studies have debunked the idea that eating high-cholesterol foods translates to high cholesterol in your bloodstream.) They’re one of my “desert-island” must-haves, along with dried beans and sweet potatoes. Now that my housemates have given them up, I find myself gravitating to eggs even more than usual. I cook for one even when I cook for three, sometimes adding an egg to what’s on my plate while Rebekah and Peter sprinkle nutritional yeast on their portions.
The last thing on my mind when it comes to these eggs is breakfast, because I’ve got my granola and yogurt for that, and I don’t like to cook before I caffeinate. But eggs for dinner? That’s what I’m talking about. My favorite off-the-cuff dish usually involves some sort of vegetable stir-fry, or braised greens and beans over rice, or tacos, graced with a fried egg or two. Or I’ll poach them in spicy tomato sauce, spooning that on top of toast; or I’ll add a fried one to spaghetti, cutting it up into the pasta and sauce and letting the runny yolk enrobe everything in its golden richness. In my go-to book on the subject, “The Good Egg” (Houghton Mifflin, 2006), author Marie Simmons devoted an entire chapter to the pasta-and-egg combination, endearing herself to me forever.