Two Eggs and Hot Sauce

7 Am

Two Fried Eggs

On a black pan

Hot sauce everyday

1 piece of toast

Golden not burnt

The smell is how you know

It will be perfect

Let the butter melt

On the warm bread

This was an honor

To make sure he was fed

Hot black coffee

With a splash of cream

Mornings were calm and foggy

A recipe to daydream

The day would be full of

Happy surprises

That’s what we expected

With all of the sunrises

With sleep in his eyes

He stumbled to his chair

Proudly I brought him

Food prepared with care

Morning after morning

For one beautiful year

I took care of him joyfully

Preparing this meal

The food wasn’t complicated

Just like life with him

Somewhat understated

But better than every wish

I haven’t made the food since

The last meal he ate

I think it would be a waste

No one appreciated it in his way

I love to cook. One of my favorite pastimes is to create new recipes. I like to think outside of the box and figure out tasty ways to make normal recipes healthy. My original recipes are often requested for parties, specifically my stovetop popcorn, seasoned with a secret ingredient. But the one I chose for this challenge is the most important recipe I ever made. Two fried eggs, over-easy, cooked in butter and seasoned with salt-free hot sauce, served with one piece of toast and butter, and accompanied with a simple cup of coffee (made out of an old pot, not any special pour-over or espresso machine). I didn’t even come up with this recipe. My dad did. He requested it every single day during the last year of his life. He would have cooked it himself but he was too weak with a failing heart to make his own food. Before I headed off to work every morning, I made this for him.

I look back on that year now with rose-colored glasses, but during that time it was just normal life with good days and bad days. Sometimes I would be in a rush, or in a bad mood and didn’t always want to make it. Some days he didn’t like how I made it. He would still eat it, but kindly gave me suggestions for the following day, like, “maybe leave the eggs on for a couple more minutes tomorrow,” or “next time take the toast out earlier.” I would get frustrated at his criticism but would follow his advice, and smiled the next morning when he truly enjoyed it.

His tastebuds were constantly changing due to a concoction of medicines affecting them and most things did not taste good to him or had no taste at all. However, this simple breakfast did. He couldn’t have salt due to a doctor’s order, so we had to get creative. There was a special hot sauce at Trader Joe’s that didn’t have salt but actually tasted good! I can’t remember what the ingredients were but even I enjoyed it (and I love salt). He went through that hot sauce fast that I had to go by Trader Joe’s at least once a week just to keep up with him. They discontinued the hot sauce the month he passed away. That didn’t feel like a coincidence. No one could enjoy it the way he could, so what was the point of selling it? (I know the company never knew and wouldn’t think that, yet that was my reasoning).

I haven’t made this meal again. I make eggs all the time. I drink coffee everyday. I’ll splurge and have toast occasionally. But I purposely stay away from this specific recipe. Maybe one day I’ll make it again. But for now, I prefer it to stay in my heart as the meal he enjoyed while we enjoyed each other’s presence for one more year.