I had a great meeting (which will lead to some bad-ass future posts, methinks) about 2 hours North of here this afternoon. At meeting’s end, the host gave me some eggs we grabbed from out the chicken coop on the way to my car. Upon return home, I took the last slices of roast beast from the fridge and gave ’em a sear in a buttery pan, followed by two of these freshest eggs; they stood up in the pan when cracked in. Then I ate them, with a splash of the wine reduction sauce that remained and a whole wheat English muffin to mop up the polyvalent goodness. To accompany, a 2001 J. Lohr Paso Robles cabernet (brought by someone to the memorial dinner) that is a lip-smacking Cali cab of the sort I would never buy but would happily quaff, say for example hypothetically with steak and eggs for dinner after a long, productive day.
Steak and Eggs
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Ohmyohmyohmy please tell me you swabbed your roast beast through a runny yolk because that is the perfect food the way god intended.
I slid the fried eggs on top of the slices of meat and then broke the yolks all over the meat. (Honestly, what do you take me for?)