These Are Powers

Anna Barie

To make a perfectly cooked hard-boiled egg–take an organic/cage free egg and rinse.

Place in a small pot and fill with just enough cold water to immerse the egg.

Heat on high until boiling and then reduce heat to low.

Cover with a tight fitting lid and set your timer for 15 minutes, give or take a minute depending on your stove. After your egg is cooked, gently drain, and then cool with a rinse of cold water.

Crack egg on a plate, counter, or preferably a wooden table.

Breakfast should be experienced sometime in a quiet kitchen at a wooden table illuminated by a swath of sunlight. Bonus points for an accompanying cup of Earl Grey tea with a little almond milk and lots of honey.

Peel your egg, and roll it slightly in your palm, so you get an idea of its weight, then dip in sea salt and black pepper between bites while your thoughts layer fuzzily on top of each other. Or quarter your egg and eat with slices of a seeded cucumber and extra virgin olive oil.

Make two eggs and share, or eat one later, or eat both quickly and reprimand yourself for always eating too quickly, so that the chalky yolk sticks in your throat and it takes a few flushes of water to get it down. Overcooking your egg creates a greenish ring around the yolk and makes you vaguely sentimental about your mother.

We were spoiled on eggs in Europe. Perky farm brown eggs nestled cheerfully under plastic domes at hotel buffets or served impressively in eggcups. There were eggs bought for us by our vegan hostess in Innsbruck. She worked casting pictures onto bells at a foundry and had the Alps in her backyard. We hungered for eggs in a Utrecht hostel, where the cranky proprietress had hair dyed that shade of red favored by certain middle-aged European women. She snapped at Bill when he asked for a plate. The eggs were cooking just out of reach in an electric contraption behind the counter. Madonna’s Hard Candy percolated softly over the stereo like a deflated leotard. I felt a mixture of longing and mortal dread.

We spent last summer in Chicago riding bikes, swimming in the lake and writing All Aboard Future. My little sister came to visit over the Fourth of July and I made her breakfast. We were mystified when two yolks slid out of one eggshell. It was eerie when the second egg also contained two yolks. We named the song we were working on that day “Double Double Yolk”.

Then the song titles for “Double Double Yolk” and “Life of Birds” were accidentally switched in an editing oversight on tour. After the initial disappointment, it seemed fitting that each song would become the other.

Place an egg in an anthill on November the 18th.

Leave it there for one week then take it out. Whoever you touch it with will love you.

Recipe found at

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