The morning after my family birthday dinner was the icing on the cake (no pun intended). My mom made brunch. This is always incredible. She made a cheesy potato casserole, fruit salad, egg cups (eggs baked in toast cups) and, of course, Eggs Benedict (easily my favorite brunch item) with chipped VA ham and a savory and a lemony hollandaise that I still claim to be the best ever.

I woke in enough time to help poach the last few eggs for the mid-morning meal. I was excited to try a new silicon egg poacher I had purchased my mom for Mother’s Day. When she poaches eggs she swears by her mother’s method of swirling boiling water in a pot with a splash of vinegar. Then she cracks an egg into the center of her self-made whirlpool. My mom was hesitant to try the new device, so I experimented. While it was fun to play with high-tech cooking gear, I quickly realized there was something soothing about a naturally shaped poached egg versus a perfectly formed egg in the poacher.

The Final Dish:

Turns out my mom didn’t want to keep the gift after all…so she sent it home with me. Huh….I guess I poached a poacher from my mom. Weird.

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