I guess it started the day before the front came through.
We went shopping and I picked up some capicola. If you have no idea what that is, or have never seen it, it’s also called Spiced Ham. I remember stopping off at a small town supermarket once looking for some cold cuts to make a sandwich and saw it called that.
I like the stuff on a Hoagie. A proper Italian Hoagie. Capicola, Prosciutto, Sopressatta, Sharp Provolone, Lettuce, Tomato, Onion, Extra Virgin Olive Oil, Balsamic Vinegar, all on a proper Italian Roll.
Maybe a little oregano and basil on top.
Now you know what I’m thinking for for lunch.
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But I think the capicola was a little “off”. I had an upset stomach that evening and gave it little thought.
The next morning I remembered that though and decided to use the stuff one last time. I microwaved the daylights out of it and turned it into a basically spicy bacon like substance.
Bacon. I don’t get it. Why eat a slab of fat when you can have a proper piece of ham that has been seasoned to perfection, then cooked up … oh never mind, go eat your nitrites!
I put the Capicola on a Flour Tortilla. Add a quarter ounce of cheese. I had leftover cheese from the weekend’s cooking.
All was well, this concoction with one egg is a rather nice sandwich that clocks in around 200 calories each.
See I forgot to mention something. Winter. Oh sure, you folks Up North are used to storms where the temperatures drop to ranges where soap bubbles freeze solid when they hit the air, then shatter on the ground.
Go ahead, try it, I’ll wait.
Fun wasn’t it? Great trick to amuse the kids with. Just make sure the temperatures are well below freezing or else the bubble will shrivel up into a raisin which has its own charm.
If it gets to “raisin” temperatures here, South Florida is in shock.
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It didn’t get quite that cold, but it was 49F/9C. Enough of a change so that we’re complaining and cranky. We’re also hiding inside the houses and using electricity to heat them. The heating unit for the house is never quite enough because we only use it for a week or three and then it’s forgotten like the comforters we have hiding in the back of the closet. They all get washed in November or December for the year, and put away before March hits.
Coming back into the house, I noticed that it was colder than normal. Trying not to convert too many old dead dinosaurs into Carbon Dioxide, we keep the place warm in the summer, cool in the winter by our standards. I keep turning it cooler, and someone else magically turns it back up when they get home. That particular morning, it was sitting at 69F. 20C plus a wee bit.
Laughable in Europe to keep a place “That Warm” but this is Florida.
What I missed was that it changed my recipes. I made some bread later that day and had to give it extra time to rise. The yeast was shocked by what we call “cold” here, even in the “warmest” room in the house.
But breakfast was looming, I still needed to add an egg to that Tortilla, Capicola, and Cheese.
We’ve got a lot of glassware here. When I moved in to the house, I noticed a lot of it laying in the shrubs here. Apparently they liked to have parties, and didn’t care that the drink glasses were disappearing. Nice sturdy glassware, it went into the dishwasher and was a bonus. You may find old lights or books tucked in nooks in your attic or a discarded doll under the shrubs, with me it was glasses.
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Oh and a rather nice “resin” white rabbit. I’m still trying to get that back to white, having been discolored by the ground water in our irrigation system to a rusty tan.
I grabbed a drink glass. A perfect size for a gin and tonic, I knew that two eggs cracked in the glass would cook perfectly in the microwave. 40 seconds at first, wait, then 30 seconds.
Nope. The glass was too cold when I put the eggs in it. The second time in the microwave I looked down at what looked like a yellow eye covered in tears – it wasn’t completely cooked yet.
Fine. Back in the microwave. Ten seconds.
I turned my back and BANG!
The glass had been lifted off its place on the glass plate on the turntable and slammed back down onto it, knocking it off its moorings.
*BEEP!* *BEEP!* *BEEP!* it sounded as I opened the door.
You folks Up North have snow, I had something that looked like it. Two eggs had exploded in the glass and shot egg white all over the inside of the microwave to a depth of about “A Coating To An Inch” as the weathermen say.
DAMNIT! I sweared.
Breakfast would be late I said as I looked between the egg and the microwave and my Tortillas.
I mopped up the mess and gave the portion that was leftover to my dog, Rack, who came in to see what the excitement was.
Now mind you, you would think I’d know better, right?
You know the saying “Don’t go back to the well when you know it’s dry!”?
I went back to the well.
I cracked two more eggs into the cup, put them inside the newly clean and shiny microwave.
40 seconds. Safe! Great! Lets try that again… as I shook the glass and replacing it for the final 30 seconds.
I reached the door handle when the timer changed from two to one. Opening that door I sighed a relief…
All too soon. Built up pressure had to go somewhere.
I watched a beautiful sight. A Yellow Fountain of Egg Yolk lifted out of the glass, still semi-liquid and perked like something out of a hot spring. It reached just shy of the top of the microwave. Just missed going back into the cup completely and a tablespoon of yolk landed right next to it.
“I guess the microwave is slightly tilted toward the back.” I said as I reached in to the machine.
I did finally have my breakfast, but that’s it for eggs for a while. I’ll switch to cereal. Pollo Pyrotechnics in the morning may be tasty but I truly would prefer to have my eggs on the plate, not on the roof of the microwave.
Does anyone have a scraper?
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