Poaching discovered

I have always thought that poaching eggs is a wrong way of preparing them. The idea of letting an egg slowly turn into a jelly-like watery substance turned me off, and for a long time I associated this quality with the way of life in England.

I like boiled eggs for breakfast when their yolk is still soft. I love fried eggs, sunny-side up, on toast or with fried rice. I cherish scrambled eggs, especially when they’re done light and creamy. I appreciate omelets, most of all with cheese.

I enjoy eating eggs as part of other dishes, like in Chinese brown sauce (khai palo), egg strips on top of fried rice (nasi goreng), whole eggs in spicy curry (telur belado) or prepared Balinese style. I also savor eggs served as a separate dish such as son-in-law eggs (khai look koey) or thousand-year-old eggs (khai yiew ma). For the latter, the rumor persists that fermentation is started by soaking them in horse urine, although Wikipedia contradicts this.

Compared with this multiversity of preparations, poaching to me seemed a method that is lost between cuisines, devoid of character, producing an egg that is neither here or there and misses out on the character of the other preparations.

A few weeks ago, I was having breakfast with an English friend in a 38th floor hotel lounge overlooking Jakarta. When he ordered poached eggs, I decided to give them another try. And I was surprised at the combination of soft yolk within its thin egg-white coating, on crispy toast, and flavored with a dash of salt and a generous sprinkling of black pepper.

The next day I ordered two poached eggs, only to find them smelling strangely. On return home, I decided to try my hand at making poached eggs, and consulted web pages for help. That is when I discovered that some experts advise adding vinegar to the hot water to help the egg stay together. That explained the funny taste.

To my delight, my first attempt produced a delicious poached egg dish, which I ate with relish.

Photograph: My first home-made poached egg