I may have mentioned before that my favorite typical diner breakfast is eggs Benedict, but that I don’t often order it because it’s always too big.
This is the nature of eggs Benedict, because it is usually made on an English muffin. An English muffin is split into halves. Each half is topped with a slice of ham. Each slice of ham is topped with a poached or over-easy egg. Each egg is topped with a generous spoonful of silky hollandaise sauce. And there you go: a beautiful breakfast, but it’s twice as big as what I can eat first thing in the morning. At least if I plan on having lunch later.
I have tried asking for half a Benedict. This innocent request has actually been rejected by actual hash-slingers, on the grounds that a Benedict consumes an integer number of English muffins.
(Personally, although I do enjoy a good English muffin, I have learned rather to like a Benedict made on whole-grain toast, especially if it has a lot of hemp seeds and such in it. But the two-egg Benedict still reigns, even when the toast may be substituted.)
I can’t share eggs Benedict with anyone because I am usually eating restaurant breakfasts alone. I can’t box it up and take it home because I am usually going out to run errands afterwards, and I am not at all confident in the food safety of a poached egg sitting warmly in my car with an egg-yolk-and-butter sauce. And I just can’t throw it away. So I generally save the two-eggs Benedict experience for when I am not getting around to breakfast until 10:30 or 11 and I can call it brunch.
Anyway, this morning I found myself at a South Minneapolis diner wishing for a Benedict. I swam a mile this morning before getting here, so I was good and hungry, but still — at 8:30 a.m., I try to stick with the “one egg is enough eggs for me” mantra.
And then I had an inspiration!
Here at this diner, as at so many diners, the omelettes and scrambles are three-egg omelettes and scrambles. The breakfast sandwiches and huevos rancheros are two-egg breakfast sandwiches and dos-huevos huevos rancheros. So sad! I am always having to leave half my breakfast behind.
But the kids’ menu at this diner, as at so many diners, has a meal with “one egg, toast, and choice of meat!”
I decided to order for myself from the kids’ menu, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. LIKE A BOSS.
Number 50, please. Egg over easy, with ham, and let the toast be seven-grain.
Plus a side of hollandaise sauce.
And a side salad. Since your “whole menu is available all day.”
And coffee.
I mentally prepared myself to have my eligibility for a children’s meal challenged.
I even rehearsed a retort in my head: “I may be an adult, but I’m a child-sized adult.”
(It’s true. My son was taller than me before he maxed out on children’s menu eligibility.)
But my brazen confidence paid off and Zing! Moments later I was assembling my own egg Benedict.
Nothing is impossible!
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