Thursday, March 29, 2012

Adventures with Ostich eggs

 So my husband went to Whole Foods.
By himself.
Now I am sure that when he saw this larger than life
porcelain like egg
that he had flash backs of the Amazing Race episode
where the teams had to devour an ostrich egg in order
to move on.
His adventurous side must have overtaken him and
he probably thought it would be cool
to try something that they
had to struggle through.
You know, just to see how we would fare.
Plus I am sure he felt rather experienced in the culinary field
when he rolled up to the cashier with this baby in tow!

I already know how we would fare on any food challenge
on any reality show
that would involve my husband
trying anything slimy, hairy, previously crawling,
crunchy or smelly.
One bite in
quickly followed by one projectile bite out
aaaaaand that's a wrap!

So that is why I was a bit surprised
when he pulled this out of the bag.
But, he does love to experiment with different
unusual food combinations
and he enjoys cooking
so I have to give him props for
standing right on the edge of
his imaginary exotic food line in the sand.

Getting this thing into the skillet
is apparently an art form.
And it requires power tools!


The egg is sitting securely on a blender lid
so as not to move while David
drills a pilot hole.
Yes, our dinner this evening
requires a pilot hole.

and there it is.
Pilot hole success.

Now it's time for the serious drill bit.
I honestly have no idea how these baby birds even hatch!
It took way longer than expected and much more force than expected
just to break through the hard shell and expose....
*drum roll please*
 the membrane.

Yes, we have an exposed membrane.
At this point, I felt a little knot in my stomach.
Something about the word "membrane"
associated with something I am about to eat
is just about as appealing as it sounds.
Now you have a knot in your stomach too,don't ya?

Going on the advice of a friend from work,
we decided to pour the contents of the ostrich egg into the blender.
I imagine the conversation went something like this...
David: (casually and feeling a bit exoctic)"Yup, picked up an ostrich egg for dinner tonight."
Friend: "Oh you know you gotta put that thing in a blender, right?
And you need a good drill bit and a pilot hole!!"
David: "Absolutely!"
He comes home and tells me about his new found knowlege
and having previously googled what to do with this thing
and finding no mention of power tools or blenders,
I did doubt his methods.
But who am I to question employees of the Office of Naval Intelligence?
For all I know this is super secret information
and I should feel honored to have been enlightened.

A blender is supposedly the best way to keep it mixed because it tends to separate.
And it did work,
so, if the word "membrane" didn't deter you
and you want to try an ostrich egg yourself
that is a little tip for your brave soul. 

Ok, see this photo here is quite deceiving.
It looks preety standard as far as egg innards goes.
But before we even got to the yellow yolky liquid,
we had to endure about 20 minutes of clear oozing slime.
Yes, I said slime.
David shook that thing until his arms were about to fall off
and still it took that long!
Needless to say that the knott in my stomach
was threatening my appetite big time!

Once we finally got to the yolk,
it oozed for another 10 minutes.
I know this because Madison and I
were able to watch exactly half of
Fashion Star which we had DVR'd.
Not impressed with anything from that episode
 by the way.
Except for the cute flowy dresses
from the asian guy.... and they weren't even bought!

So sometime while Nicole Ritchie was
telling that guy not to use floral in his dude shorts
we had finally filled the blender with ostich goo
and had seasoned it with salt and pepper
just to make us feel better.
We scooped out enough for one omlet at a time.

I tried to fool the knot in my stomach
by telling it that even ostrich goo
can benefit from bacon, cheese and ham.

See how much lighter the ostrich egg is
compared to chicken eggs.
It's very airy. 

We almost never have it,
but when we do it is nibbled on until it is almost gone before we even sit down to eat!
I know you understand.

So, I decided that I wanted mine scrambled after seeing
that Bren's omlet wasn't holding together very well.
David thought it tasted like sponge cake.
Madison thought it tasted like soggy bread.
I thought it tasted like ham, cheese and bacon
because I ate around most of the egg part!
If we hadn't added bacon strips, biscuits and grits on the side
it would have been pizza night!


Friday, March 23, 2012


That's me opening up the door to my blog.
Everything is dust covered and cobwebbed.
I've certainly been absent for a while.

To say I have missed it would be an understatement.
I. have. missed. it.
I think that in my effort to protect myself,
I have thrown the baby out with the bath water.

I write my life. 
I write what is going on in my soul,
what makes me laugh
and cry
and think.

I write my perspective on everyday things.
I try to write as honestly as I can.

The problem is that at this particular season of my life,
I am finding that being an open book about some subjects
is not what's best for everyone around me.

This is so hard for me, because when something consumes
my every thought,
it is next to impossible to not write about it.
No, it is completely impossible.

And in certain situations, restraint and patience might be better
than spilling my guts in a public blog.

So, I've been silent. 
 Just on paper though.
I've been writing things in my head furiously
over the past year....
but that's where it remains. 
In my head.

I haven't trusted myself to blog about life in general
for fear that my issues would creep in
and taint my words and possibly hurt other people.

I would sit down to write an innocent blog post about
the mild winter we had
and end up ranting and raving
about my latest fear
 and perceived failure.

This is dangerous because
today's rants and raves,
if given time
can be tomorrow's success stories
or funny anecdotes about the time
I thought the world would surely end,
we would all live a life full of regret
and nothing would ever be the same again.

I'd rather skip the emotionally charged triade
and eliminate the risk
that my words
however truely felt at the time
would come to haunt another
and  instead get right to the success story and
the funny anecdotes.
Or at least to liveable resolution
and acceptable compromise.

But because I miss it so much,
I have decided that even if I have to blog about
clouds or traffic or cinnamon rolls to keep myself
out of vulnerable subjects,
I must blog.

The lessons I am learning in my life right now
will be shared.
They should be shared because I am certain that I
am not the only person on this earth to ever have encountered
such confliction of heart and mind. 
Such fear that I am completely wrong in every single one of my choices.
Which of course naturally leads to consuming dissapointment
and rising anger.
Such worry about what the furture will bring
to those I love who cannot see the freight train coming
despite the bright orange flag I seem to be constantly waving.

But these lessons will be shared later.
In another season when space and time
has resolved some things that right now
I think may never be resolved.

Perspective will change perspective.

I will be in a much better emotional position
to blog about this season of my life
when this season of my life
is less bitter and more sweet.

After I've learned the lessons and survived,
I will be much better equipped to
speak logically and compassionately
about things and will be more of an encouragement
and less of a whiner.

So, consider this my very vague, cryptic
re-introduction of myself to the blog world that I have missed so much.
Although I will not be diving into the depths of my current issues,
it will be impossible not to sprinkle some little nuggets of truth
that I am learning along the way
among my "day in the life" posts.

Speaking of,
I've got a great post about decorative cookies coming up soon!
And it will not include a recipe
since those that know me
understand completely that my eye for beauty
and actual execution of such beauty in
sugary dough form
does not match.