Question of the Day!

My best egg breakfast memory to date:

Eggs gathered an hour earlier from the coop out back, cooked over easy in bacon grease, by my grandmother's loving hand, just before she slides them on top of a stack of hickory smoked bacon from one of the landrace hogs we raised.

Of course, the recollection would not be complete without a comment on the scent of freshly baked bread. When you enter the small eat-in kitchen, you're wrapped in a blanket of warm honey. The air tastes of butter and the side counter still wears its coat of flour and lard... the pile of apple-skins in the bowl hints at dessert for that evening.

Now that's how one remembers the taste of eggs...