Two eggs, over medium

I'm a bit of a perfectionist. Pathologically so. When I get particular about a meal, or a food, or a drink, it means I will attempt to make the Perfect one every day until I get the method down pat. I did it with pancakes, though to be completely honest I only made them once a week. But once a week for the better part of a year. 

Yes I know, it really is that bad.

For three months now I've had two fried eggs and toast every day for breakfast. I love fried eggs with runny yolks and I denied myself for the nine months I was pregnant. Now Elliot is out in the world and I can enjoy runny yolks with abandon.

But to be clear about this, I don't like runny whites. The absolute perfect fried egg, to me, is what they call 'over medium' in diners in the Old Country. It's a variation of over easy, where the egg is flipped once after its initial landing on the grill – over easy means the white is barely set and the yolk is entirely liquid. My fried egg nirvana is a yolk with a ring of just cooked yellow holding in a disc of yellow goo. The white should be firm, preferably with those yummy crunchy edges. 

So every morning, I attempt two perfect fried eggs. As I'm usually on my own with my four-month-old son and small terrier, the likelihood of me getting it right more than once a week is low. But I (usually) enjoy the challenge. This morning, as evidenced above, was one of the best pair of fried eggs have had in ages. 

[Note: Yes I know those eggs in the photo are not over medium, but sunny side up. I find my best yolk consistency is achieved by putting two tablespoons of water on the pan and covering with a lid briefly towards the end of cooking, rather than attempting a perilous flip which could end in broken yolks and tears.]