My grandfather taught me how to cook. This was a very good thing as my father had very pedestrian taste in food, and my mother couldn’t cook worth a damn. I remember childhood meals that consisted of steak that was well done to the point of shoe leather, or lamb chops that had been seared into charcoal. My father was very happy with that kind of fare, so long as he had a baked potato or some mushy green beans to go with it. 

It wasn’t that my mother didn’t try to cook – she just wasn’t very good at it. Even so, she was able to convince me that I actually liked some of the dishes she prepared, largely by dint of repeating, “But you like my sweet and sour meatballs!” In fairness, it was the sixties, and convenience foods were all the rage. So I can’t really blame her for believing that Pop Tarts, Carnation Instant Breakfast, TV dinners, Chef Boyardee ravioli, and toaster oven “honey buns” formed their own food group. 

My grandfather, though, took the culinary arts seriously. In fact, he was very briefly a substitute chef for a television cooking show. As he told the story, he was called to substitute for the regular host at the last minute, and he decided to demonstrate his recipe for fish. “Bring me a fish! A whole one!” he commanded. And when the TV crew showed up with an ocean bluefish that was three times the size of any of the available skillets or pans, he somehow made it work. 

Some years later, my grandfather was knighted for cookery. 

In Britain, they knight you for killing dragons, or for sinking German U-Boats. In France, they can apparently knight you for your Sauce Bearnaise. My grandfather was a knight of La Confrérie de la Chaîne des Rôtisseurs, the oldest food and wine society in the world which, some say, dates back to 1248. He was extremely proud of the honor, and whenever I would refer to him as “a Knight of the Golden Ladle”, I risked being banished from the table before dessert.

What this all leads up to is that I do know how to cook, and while my skill doesn’t rise nearly to a level where some French chef in shining armor will want to dub me with a sword, I certainly know my way around a kitchen better than three-quarters of the people out there, and maybe even four-fifths. I’ve been cooking since I was very young. I remember taking a mandatory Home Economics class in middle school, and perplexing the teacher, who didn’t know whether to give me an A or fail me when the assignment was to bake brownies from scratch– and I made a flourless chocolate cake covered with ganache instead. 

Which leads me to this: I am astounded by people who cannot – or who claim they cannot – cook. Is that arrogant? Yeah. Probably. But cooking comes to naturally to me that I really can’t understand how anyone could not be able to do it. Even worse are those people who shudder with revulsion and say, “I hate being in the kitchen.” When I hear that, I want to whip out a crucifix and cry, “Get thee behind me, Satan!”

Not too terribly long ago, I was approached by a good friend who was of this ilk. His idea of “cooking” was to mix up a protein shake, or to throw a chicken breast into a skillet over high heat and pour salsa on top. Naturally, I was appalled – especially after I watched him “scramble” eggs one morning. In case you’re interested, the result was a yellow, rubbery mess that was closer to wall plaster than it was to anything I’d consider edible. I objected of course, and he then challenged me to write up a set of directions on how to scramble eggs that would be idiot-proof even for someone who has as much of an aversion to, and ignorance of, cooking as he does. 

And so, mes amis, I am now going to share the result with you. And, by the way, even if you do know how to cook, I strongly recommend that you try this method. It takes a bit of time, and some little effort, but the eggs that result are, quite frankly, amazing. 

Idiot Proof Scrambled Eggs à la Hal.
			
First of all, these directions are for a gas stove, and will feed two people with relatively normal appetites. If any of you feel discriminated against because you only have access to an electric stove, all I can say is, “It serves you right.” As far as I’m concerned, electric cook-tops are an unpardonable crime against God and Nature.

Second, if you’re one of those people who is quick to protest, “No! No! No! I cannot possibly ever cook anything! I break out in a cold sweat if I even pass an open kitchen door!” you can relax. This recipe is very easy. With just the tiniest bit of patience, you can do this!

For this recipe, you will need: 

1) Four Extra Large or Jumbo eggs. 
That's an either/or thing. Do not use four of each! If you only have large eggs, use five of them. They can be brown or white; the color doesn't matter. Do NOT used duck eggs for this. Don’t try to be fancy by using quail eggs, or ostrich eggs, or alligator eggs, or any other kind of eggs. Use chicken eggs only. T-Rex eggs are not chicken eggs. Then again, if you can find T-Rex eggs, you can sell them to a museum for gazillions of dollars and afford to hire a French-knighted chef to scramble your eggs for you. 
 
2) A non-stick pan. 
Don’t use a cast iron pan. Cast iron pans are the really heavy black ones that – go figure – are made out of cast iron. They’re the ones that timid wives used to prefer when bludgeoning unfaithful husbands to death back in the 1950s. “Pan” by the way, in this case means that it’s got a single handle. If it has two handles, it’s more likely to be a “pot”, or a “serving dish”, or even  a roasting pan, all of which are delightful things to cook in but have no place in this recipe, capische? (That’s Italian for “Just accept what I’m telling you and don’t pester me for details.” I’m sure there’s a similar word in French. It probably even more snooty than capische. Sadly, I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t know what it is.) 

Don’t use a stainless steel pan either. Those are the shiny ones. (Hey, I told you this recipe was going to be “idiot proof”!) There’s a technique to using stainless steel pans. Generally you use a little fat and cook your food until it “releases.” In this case, however, you’re likely to end up with a dish I like to call Eggs à la Scorched.  There’s also something called a ceramic pan. I’ll be honest and admit I’ve never used one. So, if a ceramic pan is all you’ve got handy, you’re on your own. 

The bottom line is that you want to use a non-stick pan for this, preferably one that isn’t already all scratched up from metal utensils and scouring with steel wool. They’ll most often have a sort of dark grey interior. I find that most of the “designer” pans with the brightly colored, enameled outsides are non-stick. But be wary – those pesky ceramic-coated pans also come in designer colors. You can tell the difference because the insides of ceramic pans are generally white. Non-stick pans tend to be grey. 

Let me digress for a moment (as if there haven’t been enough digressions in this blog post already, right?) I’m not big one for complicated cookery that uses twelve dozen different gadgets to boil water. For example, I don’t think that you need seventy-two different knives, each designed for a specific purpose. Ninety-nine percent of the time, you can get by with three: a chef’s knife, a paring knife, and a serrated bread knife. If what you’re making demands a knife more specialized that those, my advice is to throw out the recipe and cook something else. 

That said, if you’re open to having any snooty equipment in your kitchen, the essential one is probably a dedicated pan that you use solely for eggs. The reason is that eggs are delicate creatures. The burn easily and if there are any vestiges of whatever-you-might-have-cooked-before left in the pan, they’ll pick up some of the flavor. So if you don’t mind being a little foofy about it, or if there’s someone you want to impress, by all means get yourself a non-stick pan that you’ll use only for cooking eggs. (In fact, they’re sometimes called omelette pans. Again, go figure, right?) But, to be completely honest, you don’t really need one. 

3)  Butter. 
Use stick butter. Don’t use the stuff in the plastic tubs. Don’t use margarine. Don’t use olive oil, coconut fat, palm tree sap or even Crisco. Use butter. Period.

Though you will eventually need to unwrap it, try to control yourself. Most brands of stick butter have little lines printed on the wrapper that pre-measures the amount for you – more or less. If you unwrap before you measure – well, do I have to spell it out? I would also suggest that you use unsalted butter if possible. But if you only have salted butter, don’t sweat it

You will also need a knife to cut the butter. You do NOT need a huge cleaver. There is a thing called a butter knife. It's almost certainly one of the knives that came with the set when you bought your forks and spoons. If you find that you’re sort of sawing at the butter wrapper with the butter knife, just use a paring knife instead. The paring knife is usually the smallest of the common knives, and may or may not have a slightly ridged edge. It is much sharper than a plain old butter knife and will make short work of any pesky, stubborn butter wrapper that resists cutting.

4)  A rubber spatula. 
This is the thing that TV moms were always using to scrape cake batter out of the bowl on shows like The Brady Bunch or, if you’re old enough to remember, on Ozzie and Harriet. There are all kinds of spatulas. You want one that’s about an inch or so across. A super skinny one will be next to useless. 

Make sure it’s rubber - or at least, made of something flexible. A metal spatula will ruin your non-stick pan. A wooden or stiff plastic spatula could cause you to miss some spots when you’re cooking and you’ll end up with partly scorched eggs. And, of course, it goes without saying that the spatula ought to be heat resistent. 

5) A small BLACK bowl -- or some other dark color. 
If you think this is a strange requirement, read on. I’ll explain why the color of the bowl matters when I talk about cracking the eggs.

6) Salt.
I tend to like slightly salty eggs, so I’ll end up using about half a teaspoon. But there’s really no need to measure it. When the time comes to salt the eggs, just give them a few shakes from the salt shaker. If, however, you have only a cardboard container of Morton’s salt, and you can’t figure out how to get the salt out of the container and into the salt shaker, I give up. You may in fact be one of those people who is truly helpless in the kitchen, and I cannot help you. 

7) Ground black pepper.
This is not the little balls of pepper that you can buy. Those are whole peppercorns. If you add them to your eggs, you will probably end up cracking a tooth and spending a fortune on dentist’s bills. I’m talking about the kind of pepper that comes out of shakers like the salt does – normal, ordinary pepper. It’s the kind that fast food places give away in little white paper packets when you ask for it. 

If you’re in the supermarket, staring at eight kinds of pepper, and about to have a breakdown because you don’t know which one to use – relax. Just go to your local Burger Chef and steal a few packets. 

8) Optional herbs.
If you are exceedingly brave, you might want to add some herbs like chopped parsley at the end, or even a dash of smoked paprika. But if your mind balked, and your brain started to shut down at even the mention of doing such a thing, skip it. Don’t worry about it. Baby steps, mon brave. Baby steps. 

And now that you’ve got all your “stuff” ready to go, take a deep breath and brace yourself. It’s time to start cooking!

First, turn on the stove burner that you’re going to use. Most stoves have four of them plus a kind  of oval shaped burner (or sometimes a griddle) in the center. Ignore the center part. My advice is to use the biggest, most powerful burner even though you are not going to turn it up very high. I want to repeat that, just to make it clear – you are not going to turn the burner very high. You’re going to use the big burner because it has the largest surface area, and not because it gets hotter than the other burners. Most often, the proper burner is going to be the burner that is to your right, and toward the front of the stove.   

Turn the burner on to MEDIUM-LOW heat, and put the pan on top to heat up.  If your stove doesn’t have a specific MEDIUM-LOW setting, turn the knob so it is between MEDIUM and LOW. If you can’t get it right in the middle, err on the side of turning it a little bit closer to the MEDIUM setting. 

And now it’s time to reveal the mystery of the black/dark colored bowl. You’re going to break your eggs into it. Once again, just in case you’re one of those over-enthusiastic types, you’re only going to use four eggs – not all the eggs in the carton, nor all the eggs you have in the house.  (You may laugh, I know someone who thought that a recipe that called for “two eggs” actually meant that she should use two cartons of eggs.)

I have to admit that breaking eggs does take some practice. I can break an egg, one-handed, without thinking about it. But I’ve been doing it for a very long time, and thanks to Sir Grandpa of Vichyssoise, the skill might be genetic. The easiest way by far to crack an egg is against the counter or another flat surface. But you’re almost always going to leave a few drops of the white on the counter and it’s way too easy for a beginner to accidentally smash the egg to smithereens. So, instead, we’re going to learn a technique that professional cooks would shudder at, but which is really easy for a beginner.

You’re going to break the eggs into the black bowl. Not on the floor. Not by pulverizing them on the counter. Not by throwing them against the walls or the ceiling.. In the bowl. Tap the eggs, one at a time, gently on the side of the black bowl.  Don't break the bowl. If you do, you will have to use a new one. The egg should crack. It won't actually split open for you or, at least, it shouldn't.  You may have to tap it again, a little bit harder. Again, this takes practice so don't be discouraged if it's not easy the first few times. 

Sometimes, the egg cracks cleanly. But the likelihood is that one of two things will happen. If you tap the egg too hard, you’ll end up with egg all over the place and, very probabaly, tiny pieces of shell in the bowl.  But, if you’re too tentative, the egg may crack, but not open. Of the two, err on the side of too gentle. You can still use an egg that didn’t quite crack open. You can always crack it again. But if the egg sprays in all directions, grab a sponge. 

So, assuming you’ve cracked the egg but it hasn’t quite split open, sort of pry it apart with your fingers. Use both hands. Do it over the black bowl or you'll drop the egg on the counter, on the floor, or someplace where you probably don't want raw egg to be. Allow the white and the yolk to fall into the bowl.  Sometimes, if the egg is a little old, and if you haven’t quite cracked it open, the little membrane that lines the inside of the shell will remain intact and keep things more or less together, and you may have to apply a little force.  Note that I said a little force. Like a gentle twist and tug. We’re not talking about a sledgehammer here. 

And now, the moment you’ve all be waiting for! Here’s the reason I wanted you to use a black bowl. You are inevitably going to get a few pieces of shell in with the egg – at least until you master the one-handed, against the counter technique. Since the bowl is black (or dark blue, or forest green, or dark brown or whatever), you will be able to see the bits of shell.  You don’t want to cook the shell or eat it, so you’re going to have to fish them out. This is easier said that done. For one thing, it is almost impossible to do with your fingers. You’ll think you’ve got the shell pinched between your thumb and forefinger, and it will wriggle away. You’d think it would be logical to use a spoon, right? It isn’t. Oh, you’ll get the bit of shell into the bowl of the spoon easily enough. But then, just try to lift it out of the bowl. The egg white clings to it worse than a politician clings to campaign donations, and it will slip back into the bowl at the last second. 

Use a piece of the eggshell. I don’t’ know why it works, but it does. You should easily be able to scoop out the bits of broken shell and toss them away. I hope it goes without saying that you throw out the shell halves and the pits and pieces of broken shell. If you believe that’s wasteful, you can go online and fine half a hundred different uses for egg shells – everything from garden fertilizer to making concrete. If you feel compelled, go ahead. Knock yourself out. Me? I throw ‘em out.  

Oh! One more thing – don’t worry if you’ve broken the yellows. You’re going to break them in the pan anyway. The only issue is that, sometimes, the broken yellows may make it harder to see any bits of eggshell. 

And now the other moment you’ve all been waiting for – you’re read to actually start cooking. (Yay!)

By this time, your pan (Just to be clear, I’m talking about the one on the stove) should be medium hot. Use the butter knife to cut off One Tablespoon of butter from the stick. Each of those lines on the wrapper shows you where a tablespoons worth of butter is. Do not unwrap the butter! Cut it first. Cut right through the paper. You should be able to do that even though the butter knife isn't very sharp. If for some reason hitherto unknown to Mankind, you find that you can not cut through the wrapper, then unwrap the stick of butter, put the wrapper next to the stick, and use the lines on the wrapper as a guide. It does not have to be exact! If you’re off by a tiny bit, don’t sweat it. The Butter Police are not waiting outside your door to execute you by churning. 

Once the cut is made, if you've already unwrapped the butter, great. If not, now is the time to unwrap the piece you've cut off. Put the unwrapped piece of butter (the small piece you've cut, not the big part of the stick that should still be wrapped -- or that you should re-wrap if you had to remove the wrapper to cut off the piece you'll be using).

Put the butter into the hot pan. It may sizzle slightly. If it sizzles a LOT, your pan is too hot and you'll have to turn the knob down to LOW. Let the butter melt. If it turns brown right away, the pan was too hot. You will have to shut everything off and start over. By “start over”, I mean the heating the pan part and the cutting the butter part. You don’t have to throw out the eggs. Just put the bowl with the cracked eggs into the fridge until you’re ready for them.  In the mean time, let the pan cool, and then wipe or wash out the burned butter. Make sure the pan is fairly dry, and that any stray drops of water evaporate when you re-heat it.  

Assuming though, that there is just a little sizzle, pour the contents of the black bowl (the eggs without the shells) into the pan. Do not scramble them with a fork like you've seen on TV. Do not add milk, water or anything else. The only exception is that you can add a little bit of salt and, if you want, just a pinch of pepper.  But you don’t even need to mix them in yet,. Just sprinkle however much salt and pepper you want on top and – just leave it there. 

As soon as the eggs are in the pan, immediately turn the heat down to LOW.  Now comes the patience part. Use the rubber spatula to scrape and swirl the eggs around the pan. Don't worry about breaking the yolks. You will find, as you swirl and scrape, that some of the egg gets a little solid. That's good. Just keep scraping the eggs from the bottom of the pan, and sort of swooshing them around. But at the beginning, it looks like nothing is happening. Don’t worry. Something is happening – the eggs are cooking. You just can’t see it yet. 

Plan on doing the spatula swirl and scrape thing for a good 5-10 minutes. That doesn’t sound like a long time but, believe me, when you’re stirring a pan of eggs, it seems to take forever. Don’t be tempted to turn up the heat. LOW is exactly where you want to be.

As you keep stirring and scraping, the eggs will slowly become less liquid and start to form "curds" -- which are softer versions of the lumps you find in cottage cheese. You also may discover "hot spots" in your pan where the eggs seem to cook a little faster. Feel free to sort of push the parts that are still too liquidy over to the hot spots; they may cook a little faster there.
After 5 minutes or so, most of the eggs should be solid. They will still be very soft, almost like pudding. What you want to avoid is seeing any of that clear liquid left. That's uncooked egg whites and you probably don’t want to eat them that way. 

As SOON as the eggs are solid, and you don't see any more clear liquid, turn off the stove and take the pan off the heat. The eggs may seem a tiny bit “shiny”, and that’s okay. You want them to look like little yellow clouds. Note that they are going to continue to cook for a minute or two because of the residual heat from the pan. That’s fine. That’s also why I told you to take the pan off the stove the minute the clear liquid is gone and the yellow is custardy.By the time you plate them and get them to the table, the eggs will have firmed up a little more. 

Get a plate. You can put down the pan while you get the plate. You don't have to hold it. Just be be careful not to put it on anything that could burn or scorch, or on your kitchen counter. It's still hot, remember? I suggest using one of the cold burners on the stove. Do not put it back on the hot burner! That will defeat the purpose.

Use the spatula to scrape all of the eggs out of the pan and onto your plate. The eggs should be very soft and fluffy. You will be able to eat them with a fork but, sometimes, they are  soft enough so that it's easier to use a piece of toast as a scoop -- like you might use garlic bread to scoop up the sauce when you eat spaghetti. (Just to be sure there’s no misunderstanding, I am not recommending that you use garlic bread to eat your eggs. Or spaghetti, for that matter. Toast is fine. Or just use a fork or a spoon.)
 
And that’s it!
You will find that the eggs have a delicate, cloudlike consistency that is almost luxurious on the tongue. I have friends that have tried eggs this way and, insofar as scrambled eggs are concerned, they’ve never looked back. Cooked like this – gently – the eggs taste like eggs are supposed to taste like. Most Americans, in particular, are guilty of over-cooking scrambled eggs so badly that they’ve never actually tasted what they should taste like. 

That’s it for the recipe. But, I’m sure some of the in-the-know types may have recognized this as a variation on Eggs Rex Stout (or Oeufs Nero Wolfe, if you want to be fancy about it). You’d be right – except that Stout recommends a double boiler. I find the danger of overcooking way too high when you use a double boiler. Save it for melting chocolate and try the stove top method. You will not be disappointed!