It seems that I have more to learn from that peerless creation: the egg. I have already written about how I am slowing myself down to focus on the delicious taste and the vivid color of the velvet yolks, opting for mono-tasking over multi-tasking. I buy my eggs from a farm nearby, and I am so impressed by their quality that I cannot truly enjoy any others.
But there is more to learn, says the egg. Now I have to learn not to let my myself wander away during egg preparation. What normally happens: I put a pot of water on to boil, and while it is heating up--those unendurably long minutes!--I go to the computer, check mail....start reading...linking...answering...and the next thing I know, horrible smells are wafting past my nose, smells of burning metal. The water has boiled off.
So the preparation of the soft-boiled egg is becoming a ritual, akin to a tea ritual (and don't ask how many times I have let the water boil out of the tea kettle. Same problem.)
In order to truly appreciate the meal of an egg, I have to learn to be mindful from the moment I draw the water. I have to stay with that pot, start to finish.
Surely that must be it. However, somehow I think the egg will have more to tell me...