This morning, I decided to bake an egg in an avocado.
I went to my herb garden and plucked some dill, retrieved half of a leftover avocado, and seasoned it.
I used paprika, salt, pepper, and that dill.
I then cracked an egg directly into it’s pithole. (that’s a thing, right?)
It kind of dripped over the side.. I’m not sure how to feel about that.
I put it in the oven at 425 degrees..
My oven does not have a light. And my eyeballs don’t work so good these days. And my timing, well..
I kept looking at the egg and thinking, “Why is this not done yet?”
It had been done for quite some time before I removed it.
I have to go to work now.
I guess I’ll just get something there.
You haven’t seen the last of me, Avocado Egg. There are four more avocados on my kitchen table, and a whole 18 pack of eggs (minus one) in my refrigerator.
“This,” as my father used to say, “sounds like a job for Tomorrow Man.”
