Novel & Cerita Can't Make An Omelette Without Breaking Eggs

Anything to win this championship. I stretched and yawned; rolling over, trying to get comfortable in bed. As I sighed, the thought of making breakfast entered my mind. I finally woke up, my stomach grumbling with hunger and walked downstairs. As I walked towards the kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs wafted to my nose. I opened the pantry and took out the ingredients I needed for my omelette.

I grabbed the ingredients for breakfast—eggs over easy and golden toast buttered to perfection, just the way Olive liked it. I pulled a pan out of the cupboard and placed it on the stove, then cracked an egg over it. But my hand shook violently, and I shattered the shell in my palm. Cedric pinched the bridge of his nose. “Clumsy as usual.” “She’s really useless,” Caspar added snidely. “I’m not sure why we have her do this kind of work when she’s clearly more suited to scullery.” My cheeks flamed as the other kitchen staff chuckled in response. Tossing the ruined egg in the garbage, I wiped my hand on my apron and reached for another.

I feel like for twenty-three years, my life was wasted, never studied, and now I'm sorry. I put the oil in the pan. Breaking an egg takes a long time. I'm not very good at opening eggs, and I tap them into a pan and spill them in half. I put it in an oil that's not hot yet, and it's worse than the eggs are drowning in oil. I'll look at it, and it's disgusted first to feel that egg. I turn the eggs, and the shape is ugly, especially the oil everywhere. May Gerald not protest, if he's a lot. Maybe I should throw this food away, and it looks like I failed today and could try another time. It's been a waste of my life.

I groan when I remember the one incident when I tried to make spaghetti and it turned out to be huge mess. All I could ever make is pancake that too is simple and also I can fry egg but not the omelet. "Okay. But we can order it from the five star." He stated with a small smile but I huff making him frown. "I can't." I almost yell snuggling up in his chest and he pull my chin up making me to face him.

Could this mean. No, I shouldn't assume. The omelet began to crackle loudly behind me and the edges were browning as the water evaporated from the pan. I jumped up, nearly dropping my phone, and rushed to switch off the burner. “Get it together,” I whispered to myself as I slid the slightly overcooked omelet into a plate.

I can’t cook for the life of me but desperate moments call for desperate measures. Bringing out a pan, I start breaking eggs into a bowl. I put in all the ingredients I’ve seen Charles use and then pour it into the pan. The egg sticks to the pan and I realize I was supposed to put oil first. I groan, then snap my mouth shut when I remember everyone else is asleep. I try my best to savour what remains of the egg when I’m done. My only saving grace is that the eggs don’t taste half as bad when I eat them.

The oils needed to come out. Food knew when you were being lazy. Mama had also once told me soup could sense marital conflict, so all her culinary wisdom needed to be taken with a little skepticism. But she was right about the lemon. I cracked four eggs one-handed, dropping them in one by one without a single piece of shell. I had many flaws. Cooking was not one of them. I whisked the eggs and sugar until the mixture turned pale and fell from the whisk in thick ribbons. Then I poured in the olive oil slowly, a thin stream of green-gold disappearing into the batter without splitting.

“No, eggs aren’t normally made of chocolate. This one is special because it has a surprise in it. We call them surprise eggs. Do you want to eat one now?” Nodding, Aqua waited for Dawn to turn the roof light on before unwrapping her surprise egg. It was made of chocolate that melted stickily on her webbed fingers. However, the mermaid was more troubled by the lack of an opening in the egg. How should she break an egg? Will the surprise be injured inside? Seeing her hesitation, Dawn gently offered her some advice. “You can bite into it,” he told her. “If you bite into something that’s not chocolate, you can spit it out.”

She wants me to prepare omelette! What? Is she serious? She wants me to cook? And that too omelette? I had tried once and that was the last thing I wanted to do in my life again. Breaking the egg cell without creating mess is the most difficult thing for me to do. I tried everything to avoid it hiding my panic behind my usual cold expression but no, she's ready with answer for everything. And now, she even challenged me. If I say no, she'll tease me for life. Now, I'll have to do it anyhow.

She looks back down at the eggs and smiles. “Of course. But you have to promise to be careful.” She says as she lifts a finger, and I nod seriously. She slides the crate and bowl to me, and I pick up an egg like it’s something very important. Because it is. Mrs Lana has told me before that if you mess up cracking eggs, you’ll have shell in the mixture, and that’s bad. I tap the egg on the bowl like I’ve seen her before, but nothing happens. I tap the egg again, and still nothing.