I find that a truly unique pleasure is to be found in a humble picked egg. Tart from the vinegar and yet somehow sweet. A little packet of that wonderful umami inducing protein enriched goodness. Soft enough to melt in the mouth yet al dente enough to offer a little resistance to the teeth. Bliss

I’ll have two of course

It’s quite amazing that a £1.00 piece of white plastic can surprise you into being a great cooking aid. I am referring to the very cheap, very basic, microwave egg poacher. This little gem is the gateway to a great Egg Muffin.

Simple ingredients:

2 English Muffins
2 eggs
2 cheese slices
butter and pepper to taste

Open the lid of the poacher, place an egg in each bowl – for there are two. A little splash of water and then prick the yolk and white with the sharp pointy end of a knife. Close the lid.

Cut the muffins in half and pop in the toaster, set to low. Put the loaded egg poacher in the microwave. I have a category ‘E’ machine so I set it to high for one minute. If you have a different power microwave, experiment with timings. Once that minute has expired, leave them in there standing for a further minute.

By this time your muffins will be done. I am looking for a slight browning of the inner surface. Butter to taste.

At this point I look at the eggs. If they are a little too runny I blast them for another 20 seconds. I do this so as not to spill any yellow goodness whilst eating. It’s a pain in the arse when you bite into the sandwich and the yolk explodes and gets wasted. If however you have poached eggs on top of ‘Beans on Toast’ then forget about the extra time. I digress.

Plop those steamy ovum out of the poachers’ plastic embrace onto one half of the muffin. Next a sprinkle of Black Pepper if that is your thing. Cheese slice. Close the sandwich with the other half of the muffin. The beauty of the plastic microwave egg poacher is the finished egg is pretty much the ideal size and shape to fit on an English muffin.

Eat and enjoy. They are exactly like the McMuffins from McDonald’s but without the Bacon or Sausage element. These can and have been added to the home made recipe at times, but I like the plain old Egg Muffin at chez Tucker.

A glass of orange juice and a great breakfast is made. It’s quick and tasty. Try it.

Is it me? I love fried eggs, but I’m particular in the way they are cooked but more so in the way they are consumed.

The best way, for me at least, to cook an egg to perfection is a three point plan.

• Point 1: Don’t have the oil – or to be really great, lard – too hot. It makes the white bubble, not good, and produces that brown crap around the edge and underneath, also not good. A perfect fried egg’s white should be just that, white.
• Point 2: Don’t, I repeat Don’t, ever, and I mean it, pop the yolk whilst cracking the egg into the pan. Ever.
• Point 3: Flick not flip. Flick the oil/lard over the yolk. Don’t flip the egg – this could produce the nightmare situation of yolk sack breakage. Too horrible to contemplate.

We have the perfectly cooked chicken ovum on our plate. Time to eat the treat. Now I have been called weird and strange – on more than one occasion, and to be honest on many a subject * – but I eat my eggs in a regimented and structured way.

First off, I cut the white off, using straight cuts with the knife. So as the yolk and a little white is left. Then I eat the rest of the breakfast or dinner. It has to be stated here and now that a ‘Full English Breakfast’ is the daddy of all meals, and a personal favourite.

Then, once the meal has been consumed. The Yolk. Slip it onto the fork with care and attention, mustn’t break that delicate membrane keeping all that yellowy goodness intact. One fluid motion and it’s in the pie-hole. Slowly break the seal with the tongue, and let the flavour flood out into the mouth and then I take my time to savour that flavour, for it is a fleeting pleasure. And remember, there is nothing more heart breaking than egg-yolk on porcelain.

And there we have it, the perfect fried egg experience. I have been eating eggs this way for as long as I can remember and today at work, a kindred spirit arose from the mire of philistine yolk breakers. Brian, a gentleman of advancing years revealed his credo of egg consumption. Exactly as above described.

I am not alone.

( * buttered Weetabix anyone? )