My Achilles heel

I think I'm a fair cook. A good baker, and a fair cook. I can muddle my way through most recipes, julienning and sauteeing with the best of 'em. The one thing I'm bad at...

Eggs.

No joke. I worry about under cooking them (raw eggs = bad) and end up with the dusty remains of eggs stuck to my pan. In the subsequent round I'll try to compensate for my previous overcooking and find myself with a big ol' runny mess.

I blame my mother.

No joke. She taught me pretty much everything I know about cooking and baking and the kitchen in general. And she can't cook eggs. Well, I remember her scrambled eggs being fine. But there was no such thing as sunny-side-up or over easy, let alone Benedict in the Zarnow household. And it seems the ability to cook eggs is a heritable trait because eggs are the one kitchen battle I never win against myself.

Good thing Nick likes his eggs scrambled.