The perfect Eggs Benedict. Photograph
(and egg): Crash Test Kitchen. Having come to work on a lightly poached egg (buttered slice of toast, sprinkling of salt and pepper, yolk drizzling out upon incision - heaven), I was shocked to learn that it may already be too late for me.
You see, I failed to get the word in time from the nanny state that eggs for breakfast, unless consumed with fruit juice and toast, can do you in.
Yes, I had the toast, but I can still taste the cappuccino that never would have passed my lips if only I had known.
But seriously. Surely there are greater evils in the world of advertising than to talk up the humble cackleberry, as it is known to Australians.
I mean, "those egg board creeps" - as Homer Simpson once called them - are not pretending to be objective. They are saying that, in their opinion, you could do worse than eat an egg for breakfast.
And I reckon they're right. You need a breakfast rich in protein - I know this because my mate Al told me so the other day - and eggs are full of the stuff.
You have to wonder why the BACC has homed in on eggs. Has Carlsberg ever been subjected to a balance-of-probability test over the claim that its beer is "probably" the best beer in the world? And I have not heard similar protests over those "Guinness for strength" nostalgia posters.
And then there's that certain breakfast cereal that encourages you to eat it for two meals a day, weeks at a time. Did the models in swimsuits distract the BACC censors from this commercial advocacy of a nutritionally unbalanced fad diet?
For my part, I'll keep coming to work on an egg. Not every day, because I like variety. And I do have some idea of healthy eating. And because eggs benedict (poached eggs drenched in egg yolk sauce) each day may be overdoing it.
And, of course, because of the fact that eating eggs all the time would make you fart like a Trojan.
