Only someone who has gone through bariatric surgery or some other medical procedure that results in a prolonged period of abstinence from real food will understand my opening headline. Of course members of the family or anyone supporting the above mentioned people will also be in the ‘know.’ When one has to endure thin watery soups or yoghurt, pureed fruit and veggies along with a few other delightful non-foodie supplements; sometimes for several months, there comes a time when that first poached egg becomes a beacon of hope; for things-better-to-come.
You dream of your first lightly poached egg. You imagine the yolk, leaking from your mouth, mainly because you are so entranced with the rich flavour that your manners go out the window. Nothing is wasted. Your tongue searches for every last vestige of the wonder-egg. You laugh at yourself, thankful that nobody is observing your obsession.
Who cares? After the operation and ‘doing the right thing’ for so long, you damn well deserve to take pleasure in something so simple. It is the beginning of a new life. It is almost perfect that it should be an egg. There will be further delights, but the egg is almost symbolic of your new journey. That wonderful food, encapsulated within the pearl-like shell. Oh wonderful egg; we don’t care if they laugh at our love affair, with an egg---do we? Doug knows exactly what I mean. ENJOY!
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