Le cul entre les deux chaises

An American Spaniard in France or: How I Learned to Make an Ass of Myself in Three Cultures

Bachelor breakfast

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I’ve always liked the term “bachelor” though I don’t know how I became familiar enough with the word to grow fond of it. (Of course, Bertie Wooster and his pals are enough of a reason to like anything, but I digress before I’ve even started.) I like that it conveys independence and choice unlike “spinster” which reeks of desperation and homeliness. It turns out that a “bachelor girl” is a thing, but that sounds tawdry, so I’m sticking with bachelor.

Anyway, here’s a breakfast I made recently with some stuff that was going to go bad. A couple eggs beaten with milk, salt, pepper and chives; cheddar melted on tortillas; lettuce; taco sauce (that means the liquid kind, not chunky salsa). My trick is that I cook the eggs with a heavy lid on the pan so that I get some convection action happening. Makes for not-runny and not-hard eggs. Perfection.


Author: le cul en rows

I'm an American Spaniard, living in France. I like to tell stories.

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