I'm Stupid and So Are My Eggs

So after a long day of work – doing worky things, as I am wont to do – I was sitting on my bus heading home and thinking about what I might cook tonight for dinner. That devolved into surfing Serious Eats which devolved into Instagram which devolved into Redditting which then left me a sad, media-saturated shell of the woman that I once was when I first stepped onto the bus. Then, just to really rub it in, some average looking Joe sits next to me and – I swear to Flying Spaghetti Monster – starts timing himself on his phone while he solves a Rubiks Cube. Using ONE HAND. Repeatedly. I of course watch (I guess some people would say “stare” but I don't like those people) and observe his fastest time – TWENTY-FIVE SECONDS one-handedly solving a Rubiks Cube!! Like it ain't no thang! On the 19 Trimet bus while rubbing shoulders with people who shower biweekly and apparently gargle filth and cigarettes for breakfast! And also decent, respectable people such as yours truly but clearly I am not of the caliber of human that I once thought I was. I am the type of person that would peel off the colored stickers on the Rubiks cube and rearrange them because work smarter not harder, right? All I wanted to do was sit on the bus, think about food, stare at my phone, and feel superior to people who are smellier than me when THAT crazy smart asshole decided to sit next to me. What a JERK.


Ugh. By the time I got home, I felt like instead of cooking dinner I should binge Sudoku on Expert level and sip brandy from a snifter. Instead I poured my new favorite summer cocktail – 2 parts berry cider, one part red wine – and decided to cook a couple different recipes and techniques from my food bible, The Food Lab, BECAUSE I CAN DO SMART STUFF TOO, GUY ON THE BUS WHO THINKS HE'S SMARTERER THAN ME. Steamed asparagus, walnut vinaigrette, and poached eggs it is. And my husband absolutely had to make meat, so he bought a steak and kept my drink full like the dutiful man he is.


You know how I've occasionally mentioned or possibly outright bragged about how I could poach an egg in my sleep? Well Jesus tap-dancing Christ I don't know what kind of demon eggs I bought, but they WOULD NOT POACH properly. Every damn one, the whites just sort of spindled around in the water and outright refused to cradle up around their little yolk friends like I've so easily been able to convince them to do before. I threw two down the drain that were probably edible but so ugly they offended me, before I finally knocked out a couple good ones. That Rubik's cube guy – he really threw off my freaking Qi today. Poaching pro-tip – do NOT just drop your egg in the water after straining out the excess whites – gently tip it in like the delicate little flower it is. My last one came out PERFECT.


At this point my husband and I are both on the brink of starvation and I haven't even started steaming the asparagus yet because of my obsessive perfectionism over my stupid eggs that are stupid because if they were SMART like Rubiks cube guy, they would cinch up into a perfect little package like good little eggs. I finally decide fine, my eggs are going to be ugly, and I get the asparagus steaming while I prepare a walnut vinaigrette. Into my immersion mixing mug goes minced shallot, a tablespoon each of honey, dijon, and hot water, and three tablespoons of white wine vinegar. In a separate bowl, I combined olive oil and canola oil which I would then blend in slowly, emulsifying into a yummy thick dressing, and add the toasted walnuts.


Oh, shit. I forgot to toast the walnuts. WILL ANYTHING GO RIGHT IN MY LIFE.


As I toss back drink #2 as a healthy distraction from my utter failure as a human being, the asparagus perfected itself and I stared longingly at the one egg I poached that looked beautiful while resenting the others like red-headed stepchildren. Finally, time to plate.


Okay, y'all, that dressing with the crisp steamed asparagus and the runny poached yolk was absolutely DIVINE even for all of my bitching. The fatty, nutty crunch of the walnuts was an awesome contrast to the crisp, fresh crunch of the asparagus, and the dressing and yolk commingled beautifully and coated the spears in a tangy, delicious lacquer. Incredibly tasty, and I would make that dressing again a million times.


So I can't solve a Rubiks cube with one hand in 25 seconds, but I can make a mean asparagus dish with walnut vinaigrette and ugly, stupid eggs.