Over-Medium Fried Eggs in Butter

Jess Papalardo's birthday was April 11th. She would have been twenty-two. I lit a candle in the dorm room — the vanilla one Patty put in my care package in September — and I let it burn while I made dinner. Priya was at the library. I had the room to myself and the candle going and the window cracked because the nights are warm enough now, and I made fried eggs in butter in the little electric skillet I am not technically supposed to have in the dorm room but have anyway.

Fried eggs because Jess liked them. She liked them over-medium — yolk still runny but the whites fully set, with a lot of salt and buttered toast to dip. We made them at her kitchen table on Saturday mornings in high school, when I had slept over and her mom was already at work and we had the house to ourselves. She would stand at the stove in her dad's oversized Cubs t-shirt and narrate what she was doing like she was hosting a cooking show. Never be shy with the butter. That was her rule.

I made mine over-medium, the way she made them. In butter. Not shy with the butter, as instructed. I ate them on toast standing at the window looking at nothing in particular. The candle burned down about halfway. I let it go until it was time for the Nar-Anon meeting at nine and then I blew it out, and the smoke went sideways in the draft from the window.

The meeting was hard. There was a woman there whose daughter died six months ago and she had that specific look — the one where the face has not figured out how to arrange itself yet. I sat next to her during the closing and she cried a little and I did not say anything, just handed her a tissue from the pack in my bag. Sometimes there is nothing to say. Sometimes you just make the eggs and light the candle and hand someone a tissue and that is the whole of what you have to offer. It is enough. I think it is enough.

Some nights call for something simple — not a project, not a distraction, just the thing itself. After the meeting, after the candle, after all of it, I kept thinking about my grandmother’s eggs: the hiss of butter in the pan, the specific confidence of a woman who never measured anything. Here’s how I made them.

Prep Time: 2 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 7 minutes | Servings: 1

Ingredients

2 large eggs
1 tablespoon unsalted butter — plus a little more, because never be shy with the butter
Kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste (be generous with the salt)
2 slices sturdy sandwich bread, toasted
Softened butter, for the toast

Instructions

Heat the pan. Set a skillet over medium heat and let it warm for about a minute. Add the butter and swirl to coat. When it foams and the foam just begins to subside, you’re ready.
Add the eggs. Crack both eggs into the skillet close to the surface, keeping the yolks intact. Season immediately and generously with salt and pepper.
Cook the whites undisturbed. Let the eggs cook without touching them until the whites are fully set all the way to the edges — no translucent jiggle remaining — about 2 to 3 minutes. The edges will just begin to turn golden.
Flip carefully. Slide a thin spatula fully under each egg and flip gently. Cook for exactly 30 to 45 seconds more. You want the top of the whites set and matte but the yolk still soft and runny inside — press lightly near the yolk to check; it should give like a water balloon.
Butter the toast and serve. Spread softened butter on the hot toast while the eggs finish. Slide the eggs on top or alongside. Eat standing at the window if that’s where you are. Dip the toast into the yolk. Let it be enough.

Nutrition (per serving)

Over-Medium Fried Eggs in Butter — Never Be Shy With the Butter