A vintage Krups liquidiser

Slightly Bemused writes:

I bought a latte today, first one in months, from one of those machine dispensers. I would love to tell you how it tasted, but I managed to knock it over unto my floor just after getting home. Until I figure out how to use my wet and dry vacuum cleaner again, my living room smells of milky coffee.

So I made egg flip. Some people call it differently, never mind. But there is a trick to it when done for just one person. Beat the living daylighths out of a single egg in a large mug, add sugar (which I consider essential) and others like vanilla or cinnamon. I have never understood cinnamon, but when Little Slightly was still very little we took her on a spice tour around Zanzibar island, and I saw how vanilla was grown. It was interesting, but the little one preferred the coconuts.

Any way, then you pour boiling milk on the egg, which cooks it, but you still have to beat the liquid or you end up with lumps, which while safe and tasty, are not so pleasant over the tongue if you are a fussy little eejit like I was.

Now, my mother used make this a little differently. There were quite a few of us, so something close to industrial processing was needed, and out came the Krups liquidiser.

Eggs were cracked, and sugar was added, and occasionally honey (we have a whole shelf of glass beakers that used be honey jars). Swooshed on low setting while one of us kept an eye on the pot of milk getting ready to do its best to overflow and make a mess.

What has this to do with my latte? Well, my dad took a flask of coffee to work for lunch every day, made with boiled milk. The rest of the milk went into the liquidiser, and egg flip was dispensed like magic.

Now at the time we did not have a dishwasher, but by the time we came home from school, that wonderful machine was back in the cupboard, clean and ready for more delights on another day. Usually it was only on cold mornings, if my memory is right, and this morning was cold and damp. The spilled latte reminded me of my Dad’s coffee, and so I made egg flip.

Did you know that Ireland cannot export eggs to the US? Most of our eggs are brown, and most, if not all I have ever cooked in the States are white. That has nothing to do with it, but it is interesting, and related more to the breed of chickens and their feed than anything else. I never checked out goose eggs over there. Maybe next time.

The main reason is actually to do with the laws around eggs preservation. In the US, eggs have to be washed, which removes a coating that is a little yucky, but serves as a bacterial barrier. As a result, US eggs are always in fridges in the supermarkets, and have relatively short shelf lives.

EU rules say they should not be washed, keeping the yucky barrier. Chickens have been laying eggs for a long time, and this protected them as they were incubated to hatching. And so eggs in most Irish supermarkets (when there is not pandemic rush) are out on the shelves. I know most people then put theirs into their fridges at home, and this does extend their shelf life.

Oh, a quick tip if you are somewhere that may not have perfect weather for eggs, ask the seller to shake them gently. If they rattle, do not buy that one. And get a small cup or similar, and crack each egg into it one at a time, just in case, before transferring to whatever you are cooking.

My mother used to cook what we called an omelet but was much closer to a fritatta every Friday. Sunday was a roast. If a chicken, then Monday was ham, and Wednesday ham and chicken pie. But in keeping with no meat on Fridays, she lined the big grill pan with pastry (we used it to grill the sausages on Saturday :-) ) and at least a dozen eggs went into that liquidiser, while onions and tomatoes were chopped. And someone had to shred the cheese.

The grill pan first went into the oven with tinfoil over the pastry, then out it came, and the mixture was put in, except the cheese. That was put on after the mix had set, and the last spell was under the grill. The arguments over who got a corner piece could be famous.

But my floor still smells of latte, the wet/dry carpet cleaner awaits, but for a while my living room smells of my childhood, and egg flip.

Slghtly Bemuseds column appears here every Wednesday.

Pic: Krups

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49 thoughts on “I Am The Egg Man

  1. Rapscallion

    Our Eggflip used whisked whites for a frothier beverage that generally only came out if you were sick.

    Top egg tip: regardless the sell/use/best before date, if you’re in any doubt, drop whole egg in unbroken shell into a glass of water. If it lies on the bottom, it’s fresh. If it stands up is ok. If it floats, chuck IT. (Who knew we’d fit in a Stephen King pun?!)

  2. Marbe

    That takes me back, the egg flip. “”Go out there and see if you can find some new eggs, and I’ll make you something nice”. That’s what my Gran said some 70 years ago, and I did and she did and you have reminded me of something very lovely. That was when milk was boiled in a round pot that hung from a hook over an open fire, the whole operation was almost alchemy. Thank you.

  3. Papi

    Our breakfast treat was a spoon of porridge oats into a cup with sugar, then tea poured into it and left for a while, add milk when you’re ready and presto! Food and beverage all in one on a winter morning. Don’t know anyone else who did this, but we thought we were spoilt.

    1. Slightly Bemused

      I never tried that but I will!

      My aunt used make cold tea brack, usually around the other end of the year. Boil up a good kettle and make tea in the old Brown Betty. While it cooled, the rest of the mix was being prepared, but the fruit was in a different bowl. Raisins and sultanas, that stuff I think they call mixed fruit peel, and other wonders of the fruit world I do not recall. The tea was poured over the fruit mix, and left for quite a while (overnight I think) in the cooler pantry

      At some point, everything came together, and we still have the cake tins for cooking it, and the old biscuit tins for storing it, and it was amazing! Various decisions on butter or cream for topping, or just as was.

      She also made a drink she called Witches Brew to accompany. I have no idea what it actually was made of (nothing alcoholic: we were kids) but I do remember once learning a lesson from it that helped me in my later life. A fly got caught in my glass, and of course I go ‘ooh, yucky!’ She calmly gave me her glass, used a spoon to rescue the fly (which turned out to be a bee, but I was a kid), and as the bee dried out on the spoon left on the saucer, she simply drank the rest of my drink, while I drank hers.

  4. millie bobby brownie

    A bit of sugar on the rice krispies and warm milk was the treat in my house as a kid. When we stayed in my nana’s it was sugar on milky porridge.

    I’ve an awful sweet tooth altogether.

  5. millie bobby brownie

    On an eggy note, I was told to never keep your eggs in the fridge, as it interferes with this bacterial coating. Also, eggs kept at room temp are better for cooking with.

    Who even knows if this is true.

    1. Slightly Bemused

      I was always told take the eggs out of the fridge a while before you cooked them. Also, never add salt until the dish is done. Apparently it affect the setting of the egg. Again, not sure if true

    2. Rob_G

      Depends how quickly you eat your eggs; if they are gone within a week it won’t make any difference. Better for poaching if you take the eggs straight from the fridge.

      1. Slightly Bemused

        I do love me a poached egg, but for the life of me never learned how to cook one. Not for lack of instruction, my sister tried for years! I guess there is a knack I just never got.

        To be honest, these days I cheat and use those pouches you can sometimes get in the shops.

        But I do love me a poached egg on very buttery toast

  6. Janet, dreams of an alternate universe

    our treat was a jammy fritter,
    it’s a deep fat fried battered jam sandwich and it’s only bleeding gorgeous

      1. Janet, dreams of an alternate universe

        what gave it away lol…
        yeah my mammy, 55 years here and she still comes with subtitles ;)

        1. benblack

          I thought it was your longing for home that gave it away – dreaming of an alternate universe.

          Spent some time there, myself – and enjoyed it!

        2. Paulus

          Ok, little test Q: I have a Glaswegian colleague who can be recognised at a distance by his “gallus”, (at least that’s what it sounds like).
          So: What is a gallus?

          1. Janet, dreams of an alternate universe

            by his style, cut of his gib, daring, arrogance but in a nice way :)

          2. Slightly Bemused

            Far be it for me to contradict the lady, and this is in no way intended to.
            We have a similar word in Irish: Gall (anyone remember Ó Ro Sé Do Bheatha Bhaile?) Ultimately it comes from a word which today would mean brigand or pirate who were renowmed for the flashy style and the way they would swagger around as if they had no fear.
            I am curious if given the similarity in our Celtic languages, is there a relationship?

          3. Slightly Bemused

            Which reminds me, and I rarely like to be political, and this is not intended to be.

            The British Conservative party are very often called Tories, which comes from the Northern Irish (not as in the political, merely the linguistic) Irish word ‘tóraigh’, meaning raiders and pillagers

            Pirates could be accepted, raiders accepted, the gallowglasses (actually, maybe that is where gallus comes from?) were accepted for what they were. But the Tóraigh cared for naught.

  7. GiggidyGoo

    Maybe it’ll make you puke,. or maybe not. But some nice fresh Brennan’s Bread, well buttered. Small tin of cold Batchelors Beans. Put some of the beans on a slice, fold it over annnndddddd…..Well there you have it. Like it or lump it. Nice and simple. Some nice comforting farts for bed later on.
    But if you like it, you’ll get three bean turnovers out of a tin. Has to be cold though.

    1. Janet, dreams of an alternate universe

      my guilty pleasure is a hoka noodle sandwich, loads of butter, it’s the most unhealthy thing I enjoy

    2. benblack

      What about the bag of cans and the bedsit?

      Tried to prevent it , but, it typed itself.

      *Did anyone notice the space before the comma?*

        1. benblack

          Have you forgotten about the licking of bean cans, the actual beer cans, and the urine soaked bedsit carpet?

          Not having a go, GiggidyGoo, or defending Charger – but you’ve got to own what you write.

          Does that answer your ?

          1. GiggidyGoo

            No. What’s with the ‘comma’ comment? You seem to be away with the fairies – kinda like another double-b poster. Not having a go mind you.

  8. Charger Salmons

    On special occasions Nanny used to make my sister and I smoked salmon on toast for breakfast with a fried goose egg on top.
    My sibling and I had to negotiate a truce for several days to warrant that though.

  9. Clampers Outside

    Never ever heard of eggflip.

    What I did have was egg whisked raw with a spoon of sugar and a glass of orange juice.
    Hmmmmmm… Lhaven’t had one of those in years

  10. Daisy Chainsaw

    Olfactory memories are supposed to be the strongest and I’m glad this triggered a happy memory for you.

    1. benblack

      Now that you mention it, Daisy, if olfactory memories are the strongest, is an unchanged nappy a happy memory?

      FACTCHECK – FALSE.

      benblack is a thejournal.ie accredited fact-checker.

      1. Slightly Bemused

        Not sure where to start here. I reckon it is maybe a personal thing. When my daughter was born, a friend, then childless, said every parent likes the smell of their child’s poop. Not true (except maybe in some interesting cases)
        But as a parent, it is your job to deal with that poop, or sick-up. I am sure many mothers, and quite likely a few fathers, spent a lot of time smelling like stale milk. But you just need to get down to it, deal with it, whether at 2 o’clock of whichever half of the day your little love decides to work their magic.
        Oh, and I learned a trick before my darling came along. When you are holding a little one, and you feel a certain rumbling, before action begins, hand her off to the nearest aunt or uncle. If they poop in your arms, you deal with it!

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