We wake up to a foggy, milky morning. Light is a mere shadow of its former self and the complete day passes by in a kind of semidarkness. Everything seems to be grey, even people’s mood.
It is so difficult to notice beauty these days, although I am trying really hard. I park my car under an oak tree, and the moment I get out of the car, a leaf falls down in front of me. Then another one. I look up the old oak tree and watching its last falling leaves moving in great circles, one after the other one. Like a silent symphony. I take my camera and catch the moment which I see beautiful even if it lacks on colours.
‘I’ve got to do something’, I think while I am heading to my studio, the little Taste of Memories corner for the temporary time during our house renovation.
I light some candles. Better. I prepare a tea. I give a beef bone to Beeper, my dog, which I preserved for her from the Sunday soup. I am watching her indescribable joy, as she starts biting it than pulls it into her “house”, like a monster its victim to his cave in fairy tales.
I could already bring some light into our days, but there is still something missing. A taste and a memory. A recent conversation pops into my mind and I already know what I am going to cook. Since I have started writing Taste of Memories, it happens often if I meet somebody that we start chatting for whatever reason and end up talking about meals and memories. It is the same with Joli, with whom we lead world-saving conversations then suddenly end up remembering our grandmothers and traditions.
‘ I really liked being at my grandmother’s house’, she tells me then suddenly falls silent thoughtfully. ‘Do you know what she used to prepare for breakfast for me?’
‘What?, I ask curiously and joyfully, because I like so much when people share their memories. It is always like going for a time travel.
“Scrambled eggs with pork rind…this is so funny that it popped into my mind’, she adds. ‘If I hadn’t told you now maybe I would have forgotten it completely. I still feel the taste of it in my mouth’
Not surprisingly we continue the conversation with the recipe and I immediately feel a strong desire to try it.
‘Do you mind if I write about it on my blog?’, I ask Joli, just to make it sure.
‘Oh, not at all, my grandmother would love it, if she knew…’
It is not a light, superfood, but while I am preparing it, I can see Joli’s grandmother, who wants to cook her grandchild something filling and more special for breakfast so she goes to the pantry and takes pork rind which was made at the pig slaughter. She heats up some pork fat in a pan and roasts the pork rind only a little bit until it releases some fat then pours over beaten eggs and stirs continuously and quickly with a wooden spoon until it forms bigger pieces of egg but doesn’t dry out. I follow the original recipe so I I only use pork rind, however you could also add some onion, green onion or chopped peppers. I only make a fine addition that I sprinkle the top with chopped fresh parsley leaves and paprika so I can bring some more colour into our day, which anyway is already saved.
With a plate of steaming, creamy scrambled eggs and a memory.
Scrambled eggs with pork rind
For 4 person
40 g pork rind
1 tablespoon pork fat, butter or oil
4 pinches salt
freshly ground pepper
2 pinches of paprika
a small bunch of fresh parsley leaves
salad leaves and bread for serving
Chop parsley. Beat eggs with as many pinch of salt as many eggs you use, season with ground pepper. Heat some oil, butter or pork fat in a pan, roast pork rind only a little bit, until it releases some fat. Pour over the beaten eggs and immediately remove from hit, stirring continuously until it forms bigger pieces but doesn’t dry out. (Or cook it according to your taste) . Sprinkle with chopped parsley and paprika and serve with salad leaves and fresh bread.