Egging On

I am sharing some random thoughts about some eggs in my life. Of course, the eggs I am proudest of are the three eggs that my wife made and became our children: Amanda Dawn, Andrew Thomas, and Anna Elizabeth. How could I share any stories about eggs without naming them? The next proudest would be of my granddaughters, Celine Noel, Moriah Ann, and Hannah Elizabeth, but I use them as a lead in to my thoughts. These are just bragging rights and have nothing to do with the story I plan to share.

I had no idea what to write until I recalled something that happened last Friday while at the Ohiopyle Buckwheat and Sausage Festival. Someone gave a dozen free-range chicken eggs to the sausage fryers to cook on the grill for some breakfast sandwiches. Some of the volunteers like to make a “McOhiopyle” sandwich to “sample” the sausage and to curb their early morning appetites. Buzzy, one of the volunteers cooked six of the eggs on a side griddle and put them on a plate for the other workers. He then began to cook the remaining eggs. As is sometimes the problem with finding and collecting free-range eggs, the less diligent farmer cannot attest to the age of each egg.

Buzzy, the rotund cook, cracked open one egg, then two. When he cracked open the third, it began to sizzle. It was then that the stench hit him full in the face. The white of the egg bubbled around the black yolk simmered on the griddle. The egg was rotten.

Immediately, Buzzy began to gag and dance. Not just once, but deep gasping, stomach wrenching sounds. Those around him expected a geyser of gastric contents to erupt at any second. Another volunteer across the griddles escaped hurriedly, unable to listen to the great gagging sounds. Later, he told us that had Buzzy actually hurled, he would have been through for the day.

Buzzy finally gained control of the waves of nausea and managed to clean the now hardened and stinking mess from the grill. As he threw the fetid mess into the garbage and before he could get rid of the already fried eggs, another worker entered and constructed a “McOhiopyle” sandwich. Buzzy noticed him just as he was about to take a bite and stopped him. The “McOhiopyle” sandwich and the entire batch of eggs ended up in the trash. All day long, the workers teased Buzzy with rotten egg jokes.