"Hello, and welcome to episode one of cooking with David Mitchell. Today I’m attempting eggs benedict, a breakfast so needlessly elaborate it could only have been invented by people with a profound misunderstanding of hunger."
"I’m informed this is a New York dish. With English muffins, poached eggs, hollandaise sauce - incidentally that’s French for Dutch sauce - and something called ‘Canadian bacon’, which I can only imagine is like regular American bacon but with better health care."
"I’m not sure what they were thinking involving Americans, the English, the French, the Dutch and Canadians all before eight AM on a weekday. This is starting to sound like a war, or at the very least a messy international incident."
"I’m not confident."
"Let's get started then shall we? First the eggs." David reads from the recipe; 'crack into individual ramekins'"
"Of course it's not enough to *just* cook the eggs. No. They need their own tiny ceramic dressing rooms."
David mutters to himself "Two ramekins. Because one isn't pretentious enough for a single persons breakfast."
He cracks the eggs. Both yolks break. He tries again.
"Fine. Two peoples' breakfasts."
"Now I have to swirl the pan and slide the eggs from the ramekins into the vortex like I'm seducing them into becoming poached versions of themselves. It's egg water ballet."
David slides an egg into the water, and it explodes
"Ahhhhhh no. No... That's not... that's not poaching, I've just drowned an embryo. Very well, three peoples' breakfast, and the others are already expressing their disappointment in me."
"With that out of the way, let's attempt the hollandaise. On the surface it's simple, but of course that is a lie. On a deeper level it's French for 'you haven't worked hard enough for breakfast, now try this'. It's a mix of butter, eggs, mustard, salt, pepper and out of nowhere... lemon juice."
"Apparently I'm to whisk the egg yolks while hovering over boiling water and introducing the butter like I'm some sort of giant chaperone at a culinary debutante ball. But not too boiling. Because the yolks are temperamental artistes, very shy, and will split at the first hint of..."
"... oh fantastic. It's turned into very tiny scrambled eggs. Perhaps I'll give this to the mice scurrying tweely behind the wainscoting. At least there they, or I, can hide their disappointment in me."
"So I've toasted the muffins, the only part of this dish I'm actually familiar with and hasn't attempted a resistance movement against my efforts. Now we're ready to... Oh! the bacon. Yes, this is looking up, I've made bacon before as well."
David cooks the bacon wetly on one side, too much on the other.
"Excellent. I've part carbonised damp ham. Now I've angered everyone. The Canadians as well as the French, Americans, Dutch, and probably some Australians just to make sure I've really covered everyone. I've inspired world peace as they unite against a common enemy."
"Me."
"Right, the sooner I finish the less I'll have to remember any of this. Muffin, ham, egg...parts. And the hollandaise looks like two year old Vincent van Gogh's first try at sunflowers. Now I pour the hollandaise over the stacked ingredients."
The hollandaise slips immediately off the egg.
"Oh for God's sake. It's like watching my own optimism slide off a cliff."
A look of defeat marks David's face for just a moment.
"You know what this is? This is a dish made by a committee. An international coalition of culinary sadists. It's American in origin, French in technique, Dutch in name, Canadian in the sense I'm apologising to it, and English in the sense that I'm apologising for it."
"Why do we do this? Why can't we have plain toast? Toast is honest, dry... and sure, predictable, and if you say that's typical of me then perhaps you should, because why shouldn't I like predictability? Who wants excitement before eight AM? Let me get up, drive to work and sit in sorrow with as little fuss as possible, get it out of the way and save the culinary equivalent of an eccentric worldwide adventure for after six PM."
David eats in silence, also disappointed in himself.
"Which leads me to next week's episode where I'll attempt to make beef wellington without poisoning three people."