Bachelor Chow

I made Easter Eggs (or "Pastel-Colored Holiday Eggs," for my non-Christian readers) for the first time in five years. Being in a college dorm during the entirety of my higher education, I never felt that the inadequate resources available justified the benefits of boiling and dyeing eggs.

One of the unintended consequences were the broken eggs; some were broken by me, others had unnoticed cracks when they left the commissary. The solution: make an omelet for dinner Thursday night. The result was about as elegant as can be expected from a young man who has never had to cook for himself until the past year.

Lacking a skillet, I utilized my teflon-covered spaghetti pot. I assumed that "sautee" meant to cook the veggies with a dollop of margerine, so I put my diced onions and my dollop of margerine in the pot, now sitting on my stove. I also lacked a fresh tomato, but there were plenty of diced tomatoes on a pizza in my freezer. I don't think that the Red Baron would have guessed that I'd be cannibalizing his pizza.

I added the three eggs and began to make my omelet. Flipping the beast proved to be a challenge in the spaghetti pot. I added taco cheese near the end of the cooking process. The result was a respectable omelet, at least by my unrefined standards of what constitutes fine dining. I would give it a "D" grade for appearance but a solid "B" or better for taste. And that's the way that good bachelor chow should be.