Today's Gripe: Salmonella

As I write this, my husband is lying in bed half-convinced that he's dying. It's 2:25 AM and he's been extremely sick to his stomach for the past 4 hours. I've been awake too, helping him to and from the bathroom, bringing him ice chips, water, cleaning up a broken glass, bringing more water in a plastic cup, and now covering him in blankets to ease the chill he's feeling. I, on the other hand, am still feeling summer's last heat, and am a bit sweaty.

All this thanks to a lovely brunch this morning consisting of eggs Benedict. We went to a French bistro in Carroll Gardens this morning, a place that is usually so packed there's no point in trying to get a table unless you've got an hour to kill on the sidewalk. Matt had been wanting to go to this place for a while, and as we had secured a babysitter, he took me on a daytime date. Trying to watch my waist (although my mother always said never to trust a skinny cook), I ordered a Salade Nicoise. The salad was quite good and I'm sure a version of it will appear on this blog soon. But Matt ordered eggs Benedict, usually my favorite breakfast dish.

It was one of the more awe-inspiring and delicious plates of eggs Benedict I've ever tasted -- and perhaps I'm not sick because I had only one small bite. The eggs were just perfectly poached: soft, yielding whites and a hot, runny yolk that broke over the underlying ham and English muffin like spilled sunshine. The Hollandaise sauce was clearly homemade; it was tangy, creamy, and rich, the perfect foil for the yeasty muffin and delicate egg white. Delightful. Heaven on a plate.

But now I find myself Googling salmonella symptoms and pasteurized eggs. Ugh. But I guess de-germed eggs are the only solution to this awful affliction, unless we want to avoid Hollandaise and soft eggs for the rest of our lives. The horror!