THE LONELY EGG

I was greeted the first morning with a big smile as I made my way into the kitchen and then Sveta ran to the stove and picked up the pan with the one fried egg in it. She quickly slid it onto a plate and set it before me. The table was already set with the ыабуки (apple), сыр (cheese) and the tasty Belarus treat called сирники (seer neekee).

I looked at the lonely egg on my plate. It did look lonely. It needed a companion. And then I realized I was viewing this very well-cooked egg as an American would. After all you would never go to Denny’s or iHop and expect to just get one egg. That would be ludicrous! As I cut into the egg, I noticed it was swimming in grease. It tasted so good. Grease has a way of doing that. I am a believer that this is why true Mexican and Southern foods taste so good – it is the amount of oil (in the form of either lard or butter) that is used. I was also reminded that there is cereal (the happy box of Nesquick – yes, you know that box as a child, right?) There is milk in the refrigerator. Quickly, Dima pulls out a bottle and points out that there is a picture of a “bully cow” and this is how I will know which bottle is the milk. Yes, when you don’t know a language you resort to images and I’m guessing he knew this because he taught himself English.

Back to my lonely egg – as I finished eating the white of the fried egg, there was only the yolk left. As I cut into the very well-cooked yolk, it spurted out some sort of liquid that clearly marked each pant leg with a dot of liquid. Whoa! The egg is alive.