In recent months the venerable Eggs Benedict has become my single favorite thing in the universe to eat before noon. It's the perfect combination of runny eggy, porky, buttery and avocado-y (this is California we do things right) sexiness. It cures hangovers, brightens gloomy days and is a powerful aphrodisiac to boot (maybe).
Alas my Benedict enjoyment was relegated to restaurant offerings, poaching eggs and hollandaise creation were, I'm ashamed to admit, challenges I felt unequipped to meet. As a result the king of breakfast remained a distant treat, only obtained on fairly irregular pre-lunch-dinning-outings (PLDOs, if you will).
UNTIL NOW. I'm not going to lie, I botched the first go around. While making the hollandaise I didn't do enough to regulate the heat, the water in my double boiler was probably touching the sauce pan I was emulsifying in. The result was scrambled chunky strangeness, awful, regrettable, nearly turned me off to the whole endeavor for good. However it was still edible, and it was still kind of Eggs Benedict (yes I'm going to capitalize it) so my spirits were buoyed for another attempt. Slow, steady progress...
The second attempt came last Sunday morning. The sun was out, I'd recently completed a lackluster thesis paper that had left a nasty taste of uninspiring mediocrity in my mouth. The time was now.
Poached Eggs: Poaching eggs remained the final egg frontier for me. I'd pretty much got a lock down on all other possible egg preparation techniques. However previous attempts at poaching resulted in a pot filled with white jelly fish like entities. How'd I rectify this? I don't know, I think the key is bring the water to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, go SLOW but QUICK when placing the egg in the pot. It's a zen thing. Then corral with the greatest of concentration and ease the wayward globule of egg into as close a single entity as possible. Cut off whatever stringy excess might form and pray it looks good when you pull it out. This, surprisingly, worked. Hurdle one, conquered.
Hollandaise: I've taken to making my own mayonnaise (I'll get into it some other time, suffice to say it's both a beautiful act as well as highly rewarding), I can get an emulsion going and add boat-loads of oil to some eggs, all without heat and the end result is usually quite damn good. So, with this in mind, hollandaise shouldn't be that much of a stretch. If anything it should be easier.
Well friends it is. I guess I was put off by the double boiler, frightened of a repeat scramble and generally convinced that anytime you're getting an emulsion going things can go downhill quick. However, this time it worked, I beat the yolks, thickened them and added clarified butter while whisking like a son of a bitch. If things looked to be getting too solid I'd hold the pan in one hand away from the steam and whisk more, they'd settle down. If it was setting too much, bam, hit it with some water, problem solved. In short, I was becoming in-tune with the sauce. I knew what it was asking for and how to give it to it. (File under: "Cooking is like: sex, dancing, driving exotic sports cars, painting...etc..")
I compiled everything in the usual order, bread, meat (regular bacon, not Canadian Faux-bacon), avocado, beautiful poached eggs, hollandaise and cracked black atop. A brave new world has been opened up to me.
I came, I saw, I conquered.
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