stove no stove



never dump the old stove until you get the new one to work. not never ever! the plumber was a good plumber as plumbers go, and as plumbers go, he went. not before connecting the new range to an ancient gas line. you know by now that the old line was just that, a hundred years old and barren, a mere portal for minnie mouse. as plumbers go he'll be busy till thursday. i'll be updating progress by friday, all fingers crossed.
till then i'll do my sunny-sides on propane. yes, i own a 'casette-feu', a rickety old 'pscht', fueled from a can, a hooey kind of a 'whoosh', a when, if it starts.



reminds me of grandfather. he smoked and owned three lighters. you need to have some french, or at least do suabian to get this: his favorite 'briquet' was the 'peutêtre'le', simply because it might just work on occasion. he was thoroughly suspicious of the 'toujour'le', 'cause it happened to always work. last but by no means least, he simply adored and always fixed the 'jamais, jamais'le'. incidentally and just so you know, the 'le' at the end of those names indicates an endearment. so, like i said, i own a stove'le, it does blow some serious heat though; on a previous occasion it melted not just the butter but also the tin pan at the camp site. it is fun to be camping in your own kitchen. the toaster oven is bewildered baking a quiche not merely burning toast. the one-flame above takes juggling pots in various states of hot. onions froth in butter, off they go to make the sauce simmer; that'll be off side to roil water for pasta; you get it, it's a mess and i love it. jiggling dinner, or various afternoon 'experimentals' is fun for me, the kitchen a mess, a by now half case of propane cans ever ready for the refill, my vice grips firmly attached to a cauldron, we do own a pot holder, which i can't ever find. a circus. if ever.
so i look forward to friday, but like my grandfather, in the in between i'm sweet on my 'peutêtre'le', it has its charm and well, it may just bring about a new way of doing what i love most.
incidentally, and speaking of sunny sides, cooked in the method employed by fernand point: say you do as i do: three eggs, you break them gently onto a dish, then slide them into a pan barely hot for melted (no bubbles) butter. the eggs need to be fresh, whites tall under the yolk. if you have, from your own chickens. those whites will slowly congeal in the butter, though they won't brown or toughen. the yolk (yolk-yellow à la dylan thomas) will stay cool, uncooked, that way yolks hold their flavor best. or do your eggs my other way: butter very hot, in fact, hazelnut. ad the eggs quickly, they'll fry, like in hell and fast. the whites will crisp, not toughen, the yolks stay cool as above. i never know which to like better, some mornings i want it both ways. can you imagine?