The Night A Few Eggs Rescued Me
Open-faced Greek Omelette
I arrived home from yoga class at 10pm to a grumbling belly. I usually don't work myself to the point of hunger pangs, as I can often be found snacking - an almond here, a cherry there, a dark chocolate square in the purse, a sip of green juice - I'm rarely cornered without provisions. Admittedly, I don’t have many groceries left because it’s the end of the week, and I’ll need to make a trip to the store, but not until the weekend.
The thought and sight of an empty refrigerator gives me anxiety. Refrigerators filled solely with condiments, carrots so dry they're flaking white, and garlic so old it's sprouting - make me uncomfortable. The one thing I always manage to leave in my refrigerator are eggs. Eggs can save any dinner at any time. If there is an evening you arrive home drunk and starving at 3am, and any morning after breakfast you might have with a gent if you let him stay, guard your eggs. Although it’s been years since I’ve had a gentleman over and stay for breakfast.
Tonight, I turned to eggs. With the sensation of lingering big breaths, a final OM and an intention I will not be sharing - I entered my kitchen and let an egg rescue me. Into my omelette went all of the spinach I had, the final few cherry tomatoes that sat desperately waiting on my countertop and a chunk of feta I surprisingly never cut into all week long.
After cooking I moved from my kitchen to my living room where turned on the television and planted myself on the couch. I broke my own rules regarding eating on the sofa and watching tv while doing so. Double shame on me, but a double delight by 10:30pm when one is tired and hungry.
An Olive Garden commercial reminded me of the very first date I ever went on during my senior year in college. A close friend was kind enough to set me up with a boy that was delightfully awkward and sweet. Matt came to my door bearing flowers and we shared spaghetti pomodoro, unlimited bread sticks and a never ending salad as we sat across from one another at a small candlelit table at the Olive Garden in middle of nowhere Connecticut. When we kissed his tongue crept inside of my mouth, rapidly moving back and forth like a fish just released from the water. His tongue felt wrong and, despite those kisses, we continued to date and engage in conversation about Celine Dion, Diana Ross, and the importance of waxing the floors when a guest is coming to visit. We were both on team “no shoes in the house.” It could have been the start of something beautiful - or shared eggs for dinner - maybe? Alas, he's now married and living in Brooklyn. I hope he and his wife enjoy breakfast for dinner as they cuddle and share floppy fish kisses.
I sat on my couch, in my slip, braless, empty plate on my lap. I stared down and the plate and my belly plump with satisfaction and, for a brief moment, I imagined what it might be like to share my couch with someone. I let the thought go and I felt my lips stretch across my face to form the shape of a smile. I was thankful to be with myself. Relieved to be alone and eating eggs for one, at least right now.
Open-faced Omelette *serves 1
3 eggs + or egg whites (beaten)
2 tsp. olive oil
Scallions (whites only)
Cherry tomatoes (sliced into rounds)
Spinach
Feta
Red pepper flakes
Oregano
Salt to taste
-Heat olive oil in a non-stick skillet
-Saute scallions then sprinkle with red pepper flakes
-Add eggs and allow to slightly set, top with spinach, big cheese crumbles, cherry tomatoes, oregano and sprinkle with salt
-Serve with buttered toast and find comfort in eating breakfast for dinner