May 2, 2025

That...that can't be right

I have poached an egg in my time. I have swirled, vinegar-ed, microwaved¹ in my time and had it down to quite a fine art (which I obvs can’t remember now, but I did love the mini-tornado method, because, well, tornado! But mini!).

I never measured the height of the water though.

Sohla thinks this is important. I can see that it might be, that deeper water means you’re less likely to have egg-pan contact and so no weird sticking or smeary bits. I never poached in shallow water, but I’m thinking in terms of as-deep-as-a-kettle’s-worth. Or just an inch or two shy of the top of the pan. But Sohla got me measuring. She caught me with my ruler out, comparing spoons to centimetres.

Because, well, how do you measure boiling fricking water? Really? You can’t stick the plastic ruler in! You can’t mark the pan itself, and my goodness, do I even have a pan that holds ten centimetres depth of water that we must remember is boiling fricking hot.

This water will bubble. This water is on the come down from boiling. This is water that is going to be suspended just at the moment before its liquids become gases. This water is edging baby. I cannot to-the-brim this water. That’s danger. I could be living as a version of myself that is at least 30% less clumsy than the current², and we’re still not taking that risk³.

I had to measure all my pans (they are not particularly deep, perhaps first year philosophy, but nothing that required an essay)⁴, find one I most trusted, then mark a spoon above the point of water getting to it and being all soluble and stuff (and take a photo of ruler and spoon, which was tricky! Laying them down didn’t measure right!), then boil at least TWO kettle’s worth of water (minus a tea, I think?) and, well, it was fine actually. But it was a lot of water. Possibly over in Sohla’s US of A there’s a tall narrow pot that comes as standard in pan sets etc (and maybe here too), but I’m fairly aufait with the pot and pan sets that come with your shared accommodation, your AirBnB and the like and really do not think I’m familiar with a pot that would get ten centimetres deep comfortably. It really humbles you, knowing how shallow your pans really are, how much water it takes to get 10 deep.

And I had to try it, of course. I couldn’t just put in an amount I judged “enough” and then follow her other instructions (pre-crack eggs, place in carefully, use a spider to remove, dry off before serving). I know (or knew) how to poach an egg. This was the weird bit. So while I should test again with shallower waters, I needed to at least have one go as close to her perfection as possible.

And well, it was. As close to perfection as a poached eggy gets. I followed the depth, the bubblage, the timings, the drop method, and yeah. If you want no-instinct poached eggs that are have a runny but almost creamy yolk and no pond scum dangle whites, then yes, get yourself a deep pot and start poaching. No estimating, just instruction and result.

I am a big fan of instruction and result right now. It’s g-damn reassuring to be told what to do, to do it, and then the expected thing happens. Great stuff. Makes you feel, not alive perse, but one of the living. Look! I did this too! and it did the thing! Just like when you did it! And the thing happened! #community⁵

These poachies were served on homemade sourdough⁶ and a wild garlic-pea⁷ hummus I made while the kettles were boiling⁸. I made that according to Sohla’s dress-and-taste rules, and it was damn tasty. The whole breakfast (don’t worry, I had a smoothie and most of my coffee, I did not hunger with so many sharp implements and steaming water going around) was damn tasty and I was glad to have had poached an egg once more.

Though next time, maybe we won’t go so deep.