If I can't be inventive in my on-going attack on my mid-section and the arms that continue to wave after I've stopped, then I'm a lost cook. Thanks to my testing recipes for others (and for my own cookbook), I've found that cooking nearly the same thing over and over again -- even in the morning -- isn't such a bad thing. I kind of like it. I feel accomplished. In a happy way. Not like when I clean the bathroom, either--even though I also do that over and over again.
Take egg white omelets. Other than a short-order cook, I just don't know anyone who's cooked more egg white omelets than I have. There are months on end when I eat them every single morning. This might be embarrassing, but as it works for someone who wants to save their calories for dinner, it's not. I make the occasional foray into Greek yogurt and fresh berries, melon, or peaches for several weeks in the summer, but I quickly nix that when the berries start to come in by Fed Ex plane and the cantaloupe begins to have the texture of a cardboard box. Then I'm right back to eggs. On Sundays, at noon, I have whole eggs. Yolks and all. Very adventurous. (Here's my baby tutorial on making omelets. Just in case. ) And making so very many egg white omelets, what do I do with all of those egg yolks? My friends, that's why God made dogs and cheesecake:
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