I’ve always wondered about the expression “there are many ways to skin a cat”. Who in the name of Andrew Lloyd Webber is going around skinning cats? And why, even in the olden days, did people ever feel the need to skin a cat, never mind invest time in researching many different ways to perform such a heinous act?
Were the cats skinned alive or were they skinned when deceased to be turned into cat pie or some kind of medieval catterole? I am not a cat person per se, but, I mean, the poor cats. A much better way of saying practically the same thing is “there are many ways to boil an egg”. No cats are harmed in the saying I’ve invented and it happens to be eggstremely accurate. (I promise that is the last egg pun that will be deployed in this column.)
Recently, I inadvertently went on a mission to prove there really are “many ways to boil an egg”. I needed help with a tricky culinary problem. I asked for help on social media. Everyone knows that’s where all the most important questions are sensibly debated, after which a happy consensus is always reached.
I’ve gone mad for the boiled eggs lately. The boiled egg is a big part of my remote working life. If anyone tries to make me work in an office ever again, top of my long list of reasons why I cannot function effectively inside an office building will be: “No facilities in office for boiling of eggs.”
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That was my culinary problem. The perennially undercooked boiled egg
I like mine soft, but a little bit fudgy inside, since you’re asking. That’s the holy egg grail for this boiled egg lover and, while it might sound simple, achieving this consistently can be fraught. Lately, I’ve been having a run of bad boiled egg luck. More often than not when I boil my egg I’ve been cracking it open only to find that it’s undercooked. Cue an ocean of translucent globular goo streaming out onto the plate, taking a wrecking ball to my first, allegedly most important, meal of the day. Sorry to ruin your cornflakes with this gloopy goo image. Or indeed your perfectly boiled egg.
That was my culinary problem. The perennially undercooked boiled egg. I took to Twitter to ask how people boil theirs and I discovered definitively that, yes indeed, there are “many ways to boil an egg”.
Let me count just some of the ways.
The Delia Smith Way
A woman called Jules wrote: "The Delia way works for me. I put the eggs in when the water hits boiling. Leave for 2 minutes. Then take the pot off the heat and leave them for 8 minutes. Gooey, perfectly cooked, ready for soldiers." As an aside, it was heartening to see how many people suggested Delia's method. Hers is the most battered, beloved cookbook in my collection. Wouldn't go anywhere else for instructions on pancakes or fish pie to be honest. Egg rating: 4/5. (Delia can do little wrong.)
The Domini Kemp Way
The former food writer with this newspaper is a source to be trusted on all matters. She's the person who turned me on to roasted cauliflower. (Yes, it IS possible to be turned on by cauliflower. Roast it smothered in turmeric and olive olive. See?) Anyway, back to Domini's egg advice: "Spoon egg – gently– into boiling water, rather than bring cold water up to the boil with egg in it. Eggs sometimes crack. But 6 minutes gentle simmer… bingo." This is perfectly fine but size of egg crucial – too big and the gloop may still be there. Egg rating: 3/5
The Tom Doorley Way
Foodie Tom's method involves having neighbours who keep hens, so is not actually doable for most of us. But here is his advice in case you live near the people from The Good Life. "Four minutes, 30 seconds does it for me. But the eggs are from a neighbour's hens and very fresh." Egg rating: 2/5 (Low marking on account of access to local hens.)
My Friend Gerry's Way
This also gives me an opportunity to plug Gerry's new bread business Bread Man Walking. How do I like my eggs in the morning? Glad you asked. I like my eggs decanted from the shell and spread on a slice of Gerry's seeded Omega Man loaf with tomato relish. When I asked Gerry, an exceptional cook, for boiled egg advice, he said: "I start my eggs in cold water and for a fudgy hard boiled yoke, exactly 5 minutes 30 seconds (say 6 minutes if it's a big egg) from the precise moment it comes to the boil. Mixed results with this but satisfactory. Egg rating: 3/5
The Famous Musician's Way
A well-known Irish music star slid helpfully into my DMs to tell me his method. "Start the eggs in cold water, and about a minute or less after the water boils, take them out… usually perfect!!" Well I tried that and the result for me was another undercooked egg I had to throw in the bin. (Don't give up the day job, Mr De Burgh.) Egg rating: 1/5
The New York Times Way
In the end, it was a glance at the New York Times that ended my search for the elusive, consistent, perfect boiled egg. Did you know that you can STEAM eggs? I KNOW! Neither did I. Take it away New York Times geniuses: "This technique for boiled eggs – technically they're steamed, as they cook in just an inch of water – will maximise your chances of turning out perfectly smooth, blemish-free eggs that jump out of their shells." Egg rating: 5/5
I’ve just this minute made my third-in-a-row perfectly fudgy, soft boiled egg using only an inch of water. Let the inch of water come to the boil, carefully place your egg in the pan, put the lid on and let it steam away for six and half minutes until hey presto, the perfect – easier than usual to peel for some reason – egg.
Clearly there are very eggciting times ahead for this boiled egg addict. Sorry, but not really sorry. Promises, a bit like eggs, are made to be broken. Thank you for reading. This has been great crack altogether.