Bruce Eggs

During Bruce's sojourn in hail- and rain-blighted New Mexico, I realized that even I could grow weary of a nightly diet consisting of wine, cheese, bread, and leftover Christmas candy.  I guess I must be growing up.  I was ready  to expand my single dining horizons to wine, cheese, eggs, and bread.

Bruce taught me everything I know about eggs.  I came from a household where eggs--like everything else--were cooked until well done.   The eggs were served browned at the edges and topped with ketchup.  I loved them. The first time I was confronted with properly made scrambled eggs, I was shocked.  They were moist and creamy and buttery--and utterly revolted me.  Only love made me choke them down. Now, I can't imagine life without them (or Bruce, for that matter).

This is the quickest recipe in the known universe.  Start the toast as soon as the garlic has started to soften.
Chop some garlic or shallots.  This can be skipped, but the eggs will be poorer for it.  Chop some cilantro (or parsley). Grate some cheese (Jalapeno jack that night, but almost any good melter except mozzarella will work, as will parm.) Break the eggs into a bowl.  Add the cheese, herbs, salt, pepper, a slosh of some dairy (cream, milk, sour cream, creme fraiche, scallion cream cheese).  Stir until well blended but don't give them a nasty beating. [Note:  You can add diced peppers, leftover chopped vegetables, or ham or chicken or shrimp.  Very hard to go wrong, as long as you don't add a whole turkey leg.]

Heat a good lump of butter in a medium pan over medium heat.  Add the garlic or shallot.  Let cook until they soften, giving them an occasional stir.  Should take no longer than  four or five minutes.  Pour in the eggs.  Turn off the heat.  Fold them gently until they form large, creamy  curds; should take a minute or so.  Serve with well-buttered toast and a glass of wine.  Follow with Christmas candy.