Kryptonite brunch

I think it is true that everyone is good at something, everyone has their own power, something they are good at. But if we have learnt nothing more from the Superman franchise it is that there is no such thing as perfection. A flaw is not always obvious and even if it was would you tell. If we can believe the movie Clark Kent was in his mid thirties before anyone even knew the effects of Kryptonite. I say this because it seems pretty obvious now that even the dumbest of the many bad guys and henchmen now doing time could not have put two and two together and come up with something like "lets get some of that stuff that brings the unstoppable man to him knees." even if they could not see through a disguise consisting of a pair of glasses and a pot of hair gel. I am no Lex Luther but I have now discovered my sisters Kryptonite. I did not mean to it just appeared.

When it comes to cooking little L is pretty good. She has served dinners for 15 consisting of two sittings, cooked banquettes for Easter, Christmas and every other significant annual event. She has baked cakes for birthdays, christenings and weddings and I have never known a person to leave her house without complaining of eating too much. She does not cook in blue Lycra and does not need to change in a phone box before turning on the oven, but she is pretty good at cooking, thats (one of) her power(s).
I was expecting good things when I invited myself round for a late breakfast, or brunch if you want to be all American about it. When I arrived things were boiling and bread was primed for toasting. There was a great spread on the table and just a few things to finish off. We all sat down and the last of the bounty was presented. It was great, I started with some toast covered it in beans a few mushrooms on the side then some scrambled eggs. Now I do a bit of cooking myself and I am pretty much positive that the black and crispy extras did nothing to enhanced the overall taste and texture of the side dish, burnt scrambled eggs, must have been an off day. I invited myself round again about a month later again a great spread and again scrambled eggs avec black and crispy bits. I had to check, for a moment I thought that maybe little L had for all this time lived under the false notion that this was the correct manner to cook them. No they were just burnt and she knew it.

I do not wish to trivialise the scrambled egg for within its simplicity is contained one of the true wonders of breakfast. They should be light, moist and creamy but have the firmness to just stay on your fork, great scrambled eggs are an art that only a few people ever master.  But such is the greatness of scrambled eggs that even an adequate effort, easily achievable by almost anyone who puts their mind to it is still delicious and something to look forward to. We can therefor only reason other forces were at work, how else could you explain a complete loss of cooking ability for one of the simplest dishes known to man by a cook with credentials. A combination of an everyday frying pan and free range medium size eggs had combined and formed a Kryptonite substance which like Superman was harmless to everyone else on the planet except her. Unlike Superman she did not fall to the floor in a quivering heap I guess the hearty brunch gave her the strength to carry on.

It took Eve Teschmacher to save the great man of steel from a watery grave and to give us all the happy ending we had hoped for. With this is mind I worked tirelessly on an antidote until I found it.

Next time we had brunch I did the eggs.