Cute baby (Aya, to the rest of the world) and her parents came over for brunch last Sunday and I had a very nice menu all planned out. And then they arrived and Mabel went a little nuts and I was so bewitched by Aya’s cuteness that I overcooked the fancy baked eggs.
I bought special ramekins to cook those damn eggs, and they ended up being practically hard boiled. D’oh!But I plated them anyway, and as I plated them (alongside a few slices of toast per person—meant for dipping into luscious, gooey yolks) I looked at each person’s plate and thought, “Hmm…that looks kind of off. Why does this seem weird? Oh my god, Aya is so cute.”
And everyone kindly ate the overcooked eggs, complimenting the sautéed spinach and mushrooms hidden underneath. "I like hard boiled eggs," said Dan, trying to be helpful. Well, I hate eating hard boiled eggs out of a ramekin.
I also made grapefruit juice with ginger syrup and lime juice, thinking it would be some sort of magical, ambrosial beverage. But it just tasted like grapefruit juice. Which is good, but come on. I made ginger syrup, you guys.
I also ever-so-slightly overbaked the coffee cake, which was not a tragedy. It was completely edible but a little dry. (Sorry, co-workers who ate slices of this coffeecake two days later when it was probably bone dry.)
Do I blame cute baby for these brunch mishaps? No, I blame my own spaciness. But the combination of a cute little baby and cute little dog in the same room is a little much. Would I do it again? Yes, yes, and yes. It's not just about the food, it's about the company, of course. And I love these particular friends a lot. But maybe I'd make a more foolproof menu. Cuteness is distracting, people!