Eggs-pert

I test the egg with my knife. The egg yolk breaks through and runs, hot and vibrant orange, across the egg white, over the slices of roast beef, the beschuit and down on to the plate. Perfect! Victoria Day, the third day of our long weekend: the day I successfully poached eggs for the first time.

Back in Durban, conversations with my brother, Mark, turned from poetry (see As Daydreams Draw Flame April 2010) to poaching. It must've been over breakfast that the subject of the perfect poached egg was broached. It's scandalous to poach an egg in an egg poacher, so it was said. No, eggs must be poached directly in hot water or don't poach them at all. The trick, according to Master Chef Mark, is to use a fork to create a whirlpool in the boiling water and then to gently drop the expectant egg into the whirlpool. The success of the whirlpool is keeping as much of the egg white together as possible.

This quiet tea-drinking, pyjama lazing and pillow-talking morning is the perfect opportunity to try my amateur chef's hand at poaching. I butter two Dutch rusks with soft goat cheese, layer on roast beef and get two pots boiling with water. Using a spoon, I create a tentative whirlpool. The egg slips quietly from the ramekin into the hot water. The second egg is less co-operative. It sploshes into the water and a drop of hot water scalds my hand.

I set the timer for three minutes and wait.

Oops, my amateur kitchen doesn't have a slotted spoon. I add it to my shopping list. I scrummage in the kitchen drawer and out comes my spaghetti spoon. After three minutes, the timer pings annoyingly. In a deft move, I switch it off and put the spaghetti spoon into service. Easily the first egg nestles into the spoon and fills the gap where I measure the spaghetti portions. I slide it out on to the waiting paper towel to absorb the excess water. The less co-operative egg slips through the gap in the spoon and lands back in the hot water. With great precision I coax it out, balance it on the spoon and ease it on to the paper towel.

I lift each egg onto a waiting beschuit. I sprinkle parmesan cheese and smile: looking good. Now to see how eggs-pertly I cooked the yolk.