To Poach Eggs

But, after all, what would you have me do,

When, out of twenty, I can please not two?

One likes the pheasant's wing, and one the leg;

The vulgar boil, the learned _poach an egg_;

Hard task to hit the palate of such guests,

When Oldfield loves what Dartineuf detests.


The cook who wishes to display her skill in poaching, must endeavor to

procure eggs that have been laid a couple of days; those that are new

laid are so milky, that, take all the care you can, your cooking of them

will seldom procure you the praise of being a prime poacher. You must

have fresh eggs, or it is equally impossible. The beauty of a poached

egg is for the yolk to be seen blushing through the white, which should

only be just sufficiently hardened to form a transparent veil for the

egg. Have some boiling water in a teakettle; pass as much of it through

a clean cloth as will half fill a stewpan; break the egg into a cup, and

when the water boils remove the stewpan from the stove, and gently slip

the egg into it; it must stand till the white is set; then put it on a

very moderate fire, and as soon as the water boils, the egg is ready.

Take it up with a slicer, and neatly place it on a piece of toast.