Two fried eggs and one large tortilla

 

        "Why do you use so much pepper all the time?"

I like it. My pepper mill is actually an old fashioned Turkish coffee bean grinder that dumps the pepper as if it were coffee. No messing around cranking fifteen times for five little specks of pepper, no Siree, this one gives you pile of pepper with one single crank. So naturally I go crank crank crank. 

        "But why?"

Straight out of high school I flew back to Louisiana and lived with a friend and his family for awhile. My friend's mother managed the Quality Inn in Shreveport. This mother was a domineering type woman who drove a ridiculous distance to get to the hotel so a lot of times I stayed at the hotel. As basically captive. The woman worked me to death. Doing every little thing that is done in hotels. I was having breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Nobody else was there. Her eldest son came along and asked why I put so little pepper on my eggs. I answered that I was simply copying my dad.

         "Come on, you cannot even taste that." 

True. I didn't even realize it. I was copying without knowing why. He convinced me to keep shaking until I can taste it. And that turns out to be quite a lot.

Man, these eggs are good. 

They make a big difference. I notice just removing them from the carton. They are definitely heavier. Darker. Sit up erectly. Taste great. 

And then I think, "All that calcium!" 

That would go to building a little baby bird. Goes to me instead.

My real joy with excellent eggs is always degraded by thinking about baby chickens that were aborted for me. 

I look at the mesmerizing yellow-orange yolk still on the plate and lick it and think further, "man, what a bummer, my happiness hinges on killing a chicken."

We really are a ruthless species.

This is a cop out meal that might just turn out to be dinner.