My Apology to Guy Fieri

Dear Guy Fieri,

I’m not Italian, so I think my pronunciation of your last name is kinda lame.  Can I just call you Guy?  Thanks!  Where to start?  Please allow me a little latitude as I get to the point.  I had an experience Saturday night and I knew I had to address it with you.  Guy, you are one of my favorite Food Network personalities.  I watched your season of “The Next Food Network Star” and was a fan from the beginning.  Nathan was ok, so I’m happy he got a Discovery network show, but you were clearly the star meant for the Food Network.   We won’t discuss Reggie.  Anyway, I enjoyed you on “Guy’s Big Bite”, and then when you started “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives”???  Man, I was hooked!!

But, amongst all that I loved about your personality and cooking style, one thing always bothered me.  The eggs, Guy.  What is it about eggs that bother you so?  I think that the egg is a wonderful little food item!!  Omelettes with spinach, mushrooms and cheese?  The perfect hard-boiled egg?  The little slice of heaven in the form of a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich?  And, my personal favorite, the deviled egg?  Oh, Guy!  Why hath thou forsaken eggs???

Well Guy, here in lies my apology.  ****deep sigh****  I now hate eggs.  Yup.  Hate ’em  Loved ’em until Saturday night.  Saturday night, I learned that eggs are evil and should be banished from the planet (along with cats of course).  After a super long day, a lovely party and some car trouble, I arrived home with LittleTDJ (my almost 3 year-old son) at about 2:30am.  After putting him to bed, I thought I still had tons of energy.  

I was scheduled to bring my amazing, almost famous deviled eggs.  Hey, other folks have called them amazing; I’m just quoting facts. I had planned to rise early Sunday morning and prepare the eggs well in advance of my 3pm party.  However, during a discussion on Saturday night with 2 friends, they suggested I boil them Saturday night and prep them Sunday morning.  Hmm, well, I guess that would ensure they’d be cold Sunday in time for the party.  Great idea ladies!!

I gently placed 18 eggs into a large pot and went to my bedroom to post up with my iPad.  After being otherwise involved, I had 21 active WWF games to play.  Geez.  Well, somewhere around game 9, things got fuzzy.  I guess I was more tired than I realized.  I don’t remember feeling sleepy or actually drifting to sleep, but the next thing that registered were bullets and explosions inside my house.  I jumped up like a crazy woman, sending my iPad flying and not even caring.  Since we live whisper close to the hood, I went into survival mode.

Knowing that MrTDJ could sleep through a full military invasion complete with grenades and cannons, I tried to make my way to LittleTDJ’s room.  There was thick black smoke and I had to hug the wall to navigate my way.  The explosions got louder as I exited my bedroom and then it clicked.  Those got damn eggs!!!  I stumbled into the kitchen and threw my hands up to protect my face from the flying shells.  Grabbed two potholders and placed the scorched pot in the sink under a stream of water.  As soon as the popping and sizzling stopped, I carried that mess out to the back porch.

So, that’s it.  I’m done with eggs.  I don’t want to see another, cook another or eat another one.  Like EVER.  After cleaning for almost 2 hours that night, I still spotted a piece of burnt egg shell last night.  Guy, you were dead on in your disgust for all things egg.  I sorry I doubted you.  Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, are you looking for a partner for any of your road trips????  We’d make a killer team.  I got that spark, I promise you!

 

 

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