Eggs on three! Eggs on three…

by Kathryn Baldwin

A typical day at my house when my patience has heightened potential to crack involves boys “Gorilla-Glue”-ing their thumbs to the remote, convinced that the answer to their life-problems lies in the outcome of whatever sporting event that seems to me never-ending. My mom, likely the smartest woman around, leaves the house for some “retail therapy.” My two female poodles, also quite resourceful, use the opportunity to coil up and dream of chasing squirrels. My sister, the bravest, screams along with the men (and when that gets old, she Pinterest’s her nails to death). I, on the other hand, take the “bum, bum, bum, bum” football theme song as a motivation to check the fridge for fresh eggs.

For example, just last Sunday, the New York Giants and Atlanta Falcons, as well as the Pittsburgh Steelers and Denver Broncos, inspired me to crack two eggs practicing my Grandma Charlene’s cinnamon roll recipe. The edges were too crisp but my loyal, sports-fan father gobbled two on his first plate and popped an entire one into his mouth while transferring a plate of seconds.

A Sunday morning last July, the United States vs. Brazil women’s soccer game (plus overtime) inspired me to spend two more eggs fluffing some of Martha Stewart’s famous Buttermilk Pancakes with blueberries. I was so excited to break in the used Favorite Comfort Food recipe book I’d found at the “Paris Flea Market,” and a captive soccer lover provided the perfect occasion.

I’m sure egg sales spike during the summers of nine-inning baking sessions. One particular night early last baseball season, when the Florida Marlins made all bay area men cry for Buster Posey, I had enough time to spend “three extra large eggs” on Ina Garten’s “Lemon Yogurt Cake” that was so moist you’d think their tears sloshed right into my batter.

And Later, the yearly ceremony of a never ending World Series, and the HD views of Bush, front row for the Texas Rangers, threw me in the kitchen to spend half a Styrofoam carton making mounds of Snickerdoodles from whatever recipe I could find on such frantic notice. The first couple batches had no chance to cool.

The week before our 2011 Christmas, as well as Christmas eve morning (49ers vs. the Seahawks), when sugar plum fairies were counting by sevens, I stirred some unsulfured molasses into two eggs for more Barefoot Contessa: “Ultimate Ginger Cookie” recipe (aka, the best ginger cookies that ever lived).

And while the men were busy taking a knee in Tebow pride, I snuck out to pick up a new dozen for a double batch of Jacques Torres’s Secret Chocolate Chip Cookies that had me cracking, drum roll please, 8 eggs!

So, thanks to the constant drone of sports announcers humming through the air from the family room to the kitchen, I try to keep the fridge fully stocked with fresh eggs. This way, the men are fed, I learn how to bake like The Greats, and the addition of overtime comes as a pleasant surprise rather than an extended jail sentence. Not to mention, it pulls Venus and Mars into a more loving orbit.

Eggs on three. Eggs on three. One, Two, Three… Crack!

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3 Comments to “Eggs on three! Eggs on three…”

  1. I am hooked! Your writing style is elegant yet hilarious. I am officially a follower of “Kathryn Guacamole!”

    Pinterest’s her nails to death… Hahaha!

  2. Love the format of the post! So those were the cinnamon buns you mentioned the other day, looks awesome!

  3. Ok so you are making me so hungry! I love that you include a pic of everything you talked about and links to the recipes. I’m going to start doing that second one too. you may take the credit you deserve…lol

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