Posted on 11/23/2010 11:21:32 AM PST by Ari Bussel
Hardboiled Eggs by Ari Bussel
How to boil eggs? Those who want to be very fancy would take the eggs out of the refrigerator and allow them to rest a short while at room temperature. Then immerse the eggs in water, sprinkle in some salt and raise the flame to bring the water to boiling.
I only wanted a few hardboiled eggs for salads I was making, one with grilled chopped onion; another with fresh chopped onions and a third with avocados. I cared little about the process and only focused on the end result, I needed the hardboiled eggs.
In the middle of the preparations I had to run out, forgetting the eggs covered in water in the pan, as the flame raged on.
The eggs merrily floated in water that slowly evaporated, but the heat continued. The eggs felt uncomfortable with ever increasing intensity until one after the next they began exploding. By the time I later returned I was relieved the place had not burned down.
The moment I arrived, I knew something was wrong: The fire alarm was on, ignored by all the neighbors. The corridor was full of smoke and there was a stench in the air.
I opened the door to a scenario of devastation: The kitchen was black, like the scene of an explosive detonation. There were remains of hardboiled eggs smashed everywhere-from the stove to the ceiling to the cabinets and all the walls around.
The pan itself was dry and empty, a black substance covering its bottom. The metal was simmering. My heart was pumping very fast, it was difficult to see anything and the smell had made me nauseous. Luckily, I still retained enough common sense to turn off the fire and open the windows.
I set about cleaning the kitchen from floor to ceiling, throwing away the pan, then boil another set of eggs and say a silent prayer of thanks. I did not make the salads that afternoon.
Several years ago I was in Tel Aviv when a bomb went off at a farmers market where, decades earlier, I used to shop every Friday afternoon. I felt compelled to visit the scene. By the time I arrived, ZAKA volunteers had already collected body parts into bags and took them for sorting, identification and burial. Staff was present evaluating damage to nearby businesses and helping restore life to normalcy as fast as possible.
ZAKA volunteers do the horrible-yet-holy job of gathering body parts. I was thinking about them looking at the yolky remains smashed all around the closely contained area, thinking about the dozens of homicide bombers who blew themselves up in long (double) buses in Jerusalem.
ZAKA volunteers do not get paid in this world, but they have credit for the next.
More recently I started comparing my boiling eggs with the current status quo in Israel. For several years now we have lived our daily lives in Israel, America and elsewhere, and we just feel something very bad, quite horrible, is about to happen.
The daily headlines are more fascinating than any science fiction novel, and signs are everywhere. The Arab countries and Iran are arming themselves to the teeth, obtaining and developing newer technologies and greater capacities to inflict harm—from conventional warfare to chemical, biological and nuclear methods, some tried and tested, others too horrible to even fathom.
In the background to this race, a deciduous process of deligitimzation of the Jews and the Jewish State has been active, intensifying to levels not seen for eighty years. Human memory seems to erase unwanted images after fifty or sixty years.
Thus, whatever happens will be justified on many fronts, and the intensity of the hatred will make the blows harder and the victims— Israel and the Jews—more susceptible to severe injuries.
Israel and Israelis do not fight. Whether from complacency, arrogance, blindness or the need to live the good life, normal in any other country around the world but dangerous in the Middle East. Israelis dance and sing as they close both eyes to the dangers looming all about. Ignoring the threat is easier to grasp and process. It is less complicated, less bothersome and not invasive.
Israelis at all levels persuade themselves that God is on their side, nothing really bad can happen to them and the war raging in every location around the world against their very existence is still light years away from ever reaching them. Thus, congratulations are in order for stupidity without bounds.
One would hope those entrusted with the defense of the only Jewish country are losing sleep over what is taking place, but they, too, seem to be lost in the forest of let’s-drink-and-dance-and-assume-no-responsibility. Later there will undoubtedly be excellent commissions of inquiry assembled, with leading experts in their respective fields analyzing what happened to the Jewish state before her final destruction.
Like my hardboiled eggs involuntary experiment, Israel in her 63rd year of existence as a modern country has become complacent and satisfied, less worried about looming dangers, thinking she can withstand and withhold any attack. The water keeps bubbling out merrily, while the country is left unattended, undefended, utterly alone.
As the waters evaporate and the eggs explode, Israelis must be feeling the stench, seeing smoke, hearing alarms going off: the Goldstone Report, the Terrorist Turkish Flotilla of Lies, the Burning of Israeli Goods, and soon the Declaration of Free Palestine (Long Live Palestine, DOWN WITH THE JEWS and the Racist Zionist Scheme). Then will come its recognition by the global community to be followed by the Zionists toppling down the Al Aqsa Mosque (both latter incidents in the last stages of planning).
Someone will have to come and collect the remains, and from that point onward exert extra caution to check every time, before leaving, that the fire is turned off. Or in Israel’s case that clear signs of danger are addressed ahead of time, lest a “Never Again” proclamation become meaningless, shards of burnt eggshell on a wall.
### The series “Postcards from America—Postcards from Israel” by Ari Bussel and Norma Zager is a compilation of articles capturing the essence of life in America and Israel during the first two decades of the 21st Century.
The writers invite readers to view and experience an Israel and her politics through their eyes, Israel visitors rarely discover.
This point—and often—counter-point presentation is sprinkled with humor and sadness and attempts to tackle serious and relevant issues of the day. The series began in 2008, appears both in print in the USA and on numerous websites and is followed regularly by readership from around the world.
© “Postcards from Israel—Postcards from America,” October, 2010 Contact: aribussel@gmail.com
First Published: October 27, 2010
Thanks for writing and posting this.
Great post...sad and depressing but still well worth reading.
Great writing, Ari. And enjoyable read despite the gravity of the topic. (BTW, how do you hardboil eggs so they peal easily rather than taking part of the egg with the shell coming off?)
After boiling the eggs, pour off the water, refill, then dump in ice, plenty of ice, and swirl around until the eggs are quickly chilled down. Crack & roll the egg, then peel.
Eggs that are less fresh (3 wks) are also easier to peel.
Put a teaspoon of vinegar in the water prior to boiling the eggs....this will coagulate the egg white at any crack in the shell that develops....thus avoiding a messy white swirl of egg white in the water.
Thanks, I will use that advice soon as I make a new jar of pickled eggs.
When I cook one of my favorites—cornedbeef hash and poached eggs—I make the eggs in an open steel pot with just enough water in the bottom to cover a table knife laying flat, and I drissle approx. a tablesppon of white vinegar into the water just before breaking the eggs gently into the simmering water. The chemical differential between vinegar and the egg whites contains the eggs in individual portions as they cook.
I love pickled eggs - one fourth the cost of the store variety (yes, we have them here in the South).
Oh - I forgot to add:
“G-d bless Israel!”
:^)
I use a large jar, one that will hold 18 eggs, to which I add a few small round pickled beets amd some red onion.
I caught the love of my life with pickled eggs ... and a glass of beer and saltine crackers. Alas, even such fairytales come to an end.
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