My Pa and I both love eggs. I don't quite know how to explain it, but eggs are the perfect food - they can morph effortlessly into a multitude of textures and tastes. An egg can be the perfect snack, or a couple with some accompaniments, a filling meal. We love them curried Punjabi style, with onions, in a souffle all light and airy, creamily scrambled, half boiled Singapore style, fried with a bit of soy sauce, sunny side up and runny, sunny side up and crispy on the edges, deep fried, , sliced, poached with smoked salmon and hollandaise... Any way, really. Eggs are always welcome in our world. When I was a kid, Pa would wake me up on a Saturday or Sunday morning. We'd cycle or he would drive down to the local coffeeshop and order some Roti Prata for the whole family. Whilst waiting for it to be cooked, he would order us a hot Milo, and some half boiled eggs. We'd sit there eating our breakfast together, my legs swinging under the chair, me marvelling at how fast my Pa could drink the world's hottest Milo and slurp down his eggs. When we were finished, we would bring the Roti Prata back home for the rest of the family and all sit down together for a noisy, chatty meal.
The perfection of having that breakfast hour with my Pa before the rest of the family did every few Sundays has stuck with me till adulthood, and now I'm happy that S and I recreate that tradition every Saturday before I go to teach.
The other day, he turned to me in the afternoon, more bright-eyed and chirpy than usual and with a huge smile on his face.
"Girl," he whispered, "how about some eggs?"
Still grinning widely, he made a motion with his hands, of dipping a hard boiled egg in salt, and he didn't even have to tell me, I knew exactly what he was craving. And suddenly, because my Pa said it, so was I.
I whipped up some hard boiled eggs pronto and we sat on the swing in the garden for a gorgeous half hour, dipping them in salt and taking huge bites whilst holding hands and enjoying this beautiful spring weather. And all of a sudden I was 12 again, sitting with my Pa and enjoying a precious sunny hour over some eggs.
See, eggs are good. That's why they call them good eggs.