Living with a poached egg addict is not easy. It means an endless and Monty Pythonesque participation in the eternal search for the holy grail - the perfect egg. Once this appears it often just sits and winks at you in a way that says 'I am actually related to a jelly fish'.
It means asking chefs to turn their hand to the art of swirling at unexpected hours, sometimes with unexpectedly bad results. And most of all it means eating an awful lot of duds, and overhearing sleep talking mutterings of 'I might just up the anti and try three teaspoonfuls of white vinegar' or 'I believe that the optimum timing is two minutes' Cue lots of sitting up in bed and shouting 'Set the timer, set the timer....'
Here then is one of the better homemade results:
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