Can I cook like … Oprah Win­frey?

The Guardian - Feast - - News - Stephen Bush

I am not, by in­stinct, a morn­ing per­son. Al­though I can, with a dead­line loom­ing and the threat of re­dun­dancy hang­ing over me, man­age to get up be­fore 10am. I can wake up only in in­cre­ments – it takes me a good hour or so be­fore I can man­age any­thing as com­plex as eat­ing, and even then, it has to be very sim­ple: toast, per­haps, or an in­nocu­ous ce­real.

So I was im­me­di­ately sus­pi­cious of Oprah’s fa­mous “sexy break­fast” recipe be­cause, as far as I’m con­cerned, the only sexy break­fast is a) pre­pared by some­one else and b) hap­pens af­ter 10am.

Nonethe­less, as it is the most fa­mous of the recipes in her cook­book Food, Health and Hap­pi­ness, at least ac­cord­ing to three very con­fi­dent-sound­ing peo­ple on the in­ter­net, I de­cided I had no choice but to make it.

Oprah’s “sexy break­fast” is scram­bled eggs with a salsa of ser­rano pep­pers, jalapeño chill­ies, onion, gar­lic and toma­toes, plus “truf­fle zest”. I read once that as you get older, you be­come more set in your ways, and one as­pect of that is I am in­creas­ingly sus­pi­cious of peo­ple who eat eggs. As far as I am con­cerned, eggs are an in­gre­di­ent, not a food. I feel the same way about some­one who vol­un­tar­ily eats an egg as I do about some­one who eats, say, corn­flour: I know it’s not do­ing them any harm, but I can­not per­suade my­self it is do­ing them any good, ei­ther.

My sus­pi­cions are only height­ened when I re­alise how in­volved scram­bled eggs are: you have to beat them, fold them, and gen­er­ally mol­ly­cod­dle them. And that’s be­fore you’ve made the salsa.

Then there’s the dif­fi­cult ques­tion of the truf­fle zest. I know what truf­fles are, I know what zest is, but I am not en­tirely sure what “truf­fle zest” is, and nei­ther are my lo­cal su­per­mar­kets. Has some­thing per­haps been lost in trans­la­tion over the At­lantic? On­line, I find out it’s an ex­pen­sive pow­dered truf­fle condi­ment, and shell out for some.

I don’t know if the re­sult­ing break­fast is any good, but it cer­tainly wasn’t worth the has­sle. Next time I want a “sexy break­fast”, I’ll stick to toast.

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