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The King of Eggs

Kings scrambled

The King of Eggs

Draisin Adventure


Draisin Adventure

Willkommen in Österreich!

Hello Summer

Willkommen in Österreich!

Hello World,
We are Knubbel and Bubbel. We live in London and share a passion for traveling and food (I mostly eat and Bubbel is in charge of cooking:).
We hope you find this blog tasty and warm with exciting stories from our K&B life which, although not that far from normal, makes us happy and HUNGRY to share with the world!

I know that the title of this post can be a little controversial, trivial, or for some, just simply inappropriate. But, before you close this page in fear of boredom or outrage, allow me deny all these speculations. The main and pure purpose of this post is to talk about food, and strictly speaking, about how to make the best scramble eggs in the world.

However, before I get to the point. I guess it is only fair to give the eggs the intro they deserve. It’s like with great big superstars – before they sing in concert, they always arrive late and of course, there is always someone less popular performing before them. Let’s stick to this strategy in order to prepare you for the big entrance of the EGGS.

On Friday, Bubbel announced he needed to fly to Argentina. I sort of knew that this trip may need to happen. But, deep down inside, I was thinking: “hey, it is St.Nicolaus Day on Thursday. Surely Nicolaus will not do this to us and will make universe change plans”. Wishful thinking. So it is what it is. I needed to face the reality and come to terms with the fact, that there would be no presents in my shoe in the morning on 6th December.

I was a bit under the weather all evening, I could not sleep at night and at 6am in the morning, my eyes were the size of 1 pound coin and sleeping was just a faraway dream. So very quietly (as quietly as a Hobbit feet person can) I left the bedroom and decided I would try to somehow organize my desperate morning. I made a list of presents: those already purchased and those which I still needed to get. And naturally, this has reminded me of this depressing scenario of an empty shoe. So, I thought: “why don’t I just surprise Bubbel, pack the present today and leave it in his boot this morning”. My spontaneous stroke of genius was very quickly overshadowed by my inner traditional self. 6th December is 6th December. I will put his shoe out on Thursday and he will just check it, when he comes back. So, this was exactly what I agreed with myself and I was going to stick with this.

09:15am, 3 hours into surfing through amazon, researching for gifts, I was done. I could not wait anymore and I went back to the bedroom to wake Bubbel up. It turns out, he was “just about to come to me”. True or not, seeing my starved from lack of food face, he had to get up and feed me. I don’t know if you also have it, but during the week, I can get away with hardly eating breakfast. But during the weekend, when my body starts to realize what’s coming, when I think of this freshly made coffee, of the scrambled eggs on toast, I just cannot help myself. I get impatient. So, we are going to the kitchen, I order my breakfast on the app (I will explain another time, stay tuned!). And then, all of the sudden, Bubbel comes up with “Hey, how about we do Nikolaus today”? (I need to explain, that Nikolaus, is the German version of the guy who comes to us on 6th December, and leaves gifts in our shoes – very cool bloke). So, I was fighting and fighting with myself. The traditional me was trying to desperately whisper something in my ear but it finally needed to surrender as I just knew, I would go for it! And this is where a very unromantic and spontaneous part starts. Bubbel in the kitchen, me in the bedroom, we are wrapping each other’s presents.

I need to tell you about Bubbel’s cool emergency packing idea. He basically uses newspaper. It always works. He mixes remaining wrapping paper with newspaper, wraps up, adds a little lolly or a sweet on the top and it always ends up looking creative and cool.

So, presents wrapped, I am bringing our shoes (although Bubbel’s feet is big, I still struggle to find one that would work for the presents!) and I’m ready for the (non)spontaneous unwrapping. Wrong, Knubbel. You are wrong again. Apparently eggs making comes first. Breakfast needs to be ready before we move to the next level. So, I have no other choice than to introduce you to the eggs. And believe me, I am not over-advertising these. Once you have tried, you will never want to make them in a different way ever again. The result of what I am about to explain (with Bubbel’s careful guidance and wording) is a plate of fluffiness and flavours having a party in your Bellies.  So, here goes:

King’s Scrambled:

1. Crack eggs into a glass bowl (it needs to be glass, because that way you can see exactly when your eggs reach the perfect consistency)

2. Beat the eggs together with a fork or a tiny little whisk. Once they are ready, add a dash of milk (it can be any type of milk you like) and a small amount of salt, up to your taste.

3. Put a pan over a high heat and drop in a tea spoon of butter

4. Melt the butter slowly until it’s frothy and add a dash of olive oil

5. IMPORTANT: make sure you wait for the butter and olive oil to become one. Give them a moment of spontaneous pan dance. Then put your hand over the pan in a safe distance, to check the heat. If you can feel it from approximately 10 centimeters, it is ready to meet the eggs  (in other words, the pan needs to be at least 170C hot, how to really test it – no one knows. Apparently, it comes with experience). Pour eggs into the pan.

6. IMPORTANT 2: you need to remember to continuously steer the eggs with a wooden spoon or spatula in one direction: start from the middle of the pan and, when the eggs go to the edges, push them back in to the centre of the pan. And keep on going like this. It seems like an endless story but believe me, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Keep on steering until you can see the eggs changing the texture. Then reduce the heat.

7. Your eggs should be ready after a very short while. They should look silky and slightly runny, almost like a yellow cloudy blanket. You can remove them from the heat as they will continue cooking for a while anyway.

8. Yes, we DID NOT forget the pepper. We add it at the end purposely, as it looks prettier and also lets the flavours nicely sink into the warm eggs, rather than make them bitter if you add it at the start. DID YOU KNOW THAT PEPPER CAN GET BITTER? I, for example, had no idea!

FEW IMPORTANT TIPS, which came out after Bubbel watched my few poor attempts of scrambled eggs making:

Always remember that eggs meant to be fried, not bathed in the butter and oil. It sounds simple but believe me, some (not pointing fingers please) used to make the eggs disappear in the see of melted oil! So, we make sure that a) we don’t cover the pan with oil and butter, we just delicately smudge it with it. The ratio between eggs and pan size is important. In Bubble’s words: the eggs need the space to breath. So, for 2x eggs you can use a small size pan, but 4 needs a bigger one, b) we allow oil and butter to dance in the pan for a while until hot and c) we ALWAYS push the eggs from the centre towards the edges of the pan. When they reach the edges, we guide them carefully back to the centre.

The end result is going to blow you away with simplicity but tastefulness. You will be looking at your plate with admiration and you will have an inner fight about eating it now (because it looks so good) and not eating it at all    (because you want it to last forever).

After this yet another very educational show from Bubbel, we are finally sitting at the table and enjoying our breakfast. And then of course I realise, that he very successfully distracted me from what was the highlight of the morning – Nikolaus!

Do you want to know what I got? Even if you don’t, I am still going to tell you anyway. I know, I am a bad girl today. First, I tell you the post is about scrambled eggs and it takes me ages to actually get to the point. And now, I act as if your opinion does not matter and I make you suffer and read about my presents, whereas you still have almost 5 days to wait for yours. I suggest our spontaneous solution if you struggle with waiting.

So, I got a bread maker. A real master of quick and easy way to fill your room up with a smell of freshly baked, fluffy and tasty bread. A smell of HOME.

We are currently at a stage of testing the little fellow, but don’t you worry our Bellies, we will be sure to share a full report once we have mastered (or not) the baking ways soon.

And for now, that’s it. We are off and wising you and egg-cellent day!

A few days ago, me and Bubbel went back in time. To be a bit more specific, approximately 200 years, which is more less three times our total K&B age.
After travelling from London to Vienna for almost 9 hours, we finally landed on the Austrian land. And no, this is not a typo. 9hrs is exactly how long it took us to get from Heathrow Airport to Vienna. Hot summery weather in London finally surrendered and made room for clouds, thunders and storms. As a result, we got stuck on the plane for hours. Not up in the air though. Very close to the land. Not moving.
Usually quite impatient when it comes to technical issues Bubbel, was this time surprisingly calm. He sat quietly like a little Austrian mouse (I don’t know if this is the best comparison as he actually hates cheese, but hey!) and with even more patience he was attending to all my requests. And I had quite a few, as I simply could not sit still. As a result, I was thirsty, then hungry, then I’d lost my earphones. Shortly after I wanted to watch a movie but, of course, I had forgotten to download one before. You know, just simple down to earth problems, which can only be faced by less than Bubbel regular flyer.
However, finally we made it to Vienna, where we were greeted by pouring rain. Luckily, our hotel was just few steps away from the airport. It was a very friendly, not too expensive and slightly geeky Moxy hotel. We got our keys and headed to the room.
Oh, and I must not forget about this little cheeky incident; so we are standing in the queue and there are few little kids running around. One blond goddess, approximately 3x years of age, suddenly stops in front of B and with the cheekiest way you can imagine – she winks at him. Turns around and leaves. I was totally gobsmacked, ready to give B a lecture on what I thought was the right and wrong behaviours of under 10 year olds in current society, when he announced, that HE DID IT FIRST! I don’t know what is worse. Finding out that he is hitting on another woman(!) in my presence or that she dared to wink back. Overall, not as drastic, but a rather hilarious scene. Continue reading

We are back together. As cliche as it may sound; Bubbel is back in Europe and I have been teleported to his hometown in Austria and we are simply just happy. And Happy people love telling stories. So here goes. Another one. Get ready for plenty of love.. not only to Bubbel. To Austria, I think, in general.

Like in all fairytales, it is not always going to be easy though. So be prepared for tears… I had to get up at 3am  to catch my flight at 07:15am. The flight, that was than late and not on track. I have to say, for a split second I did feel connected with Bubbel on that one. After he wrote his last post (and after I’ve removed all the ‘bad’ words – not to his amusement) I told him it was a bit too much of a complaining one. But while stranded on my 7:15am Ryanair flight, which was not moving, with no comms from the cabin crew, I did think, that perhaps he did not exaggerate that much.

But going back to the story; the bumpy ride finally brought me to Linz. I arrived at this small but nice airport welcomed by these two waving hallo at me. Continue reading

Sixty minutes. Sixty. A whole hour. That is how long it took me to go to this special place in Los Angeles. Believe me, the journey to this place was like every trip in L.A.: get in to the car, hit the road and drive with all the other poor souls who live there, to the final destination. In my case, Menotti’s. I have to be honest with you from the beginning: I love coffee. Je t’aime, l’amour. Really, I do. For me, this little “black bean” is one of the biggest discoveries in human history. And is my love to it is crazy enough, to make me hit the road for an hour just to enjoy the best coffee on the entire US Westcoast? The answer is yes. Not even my impatience could hold me back.

So back to the story an Menotti’s. To be quite frank, it was a recommendation from a friend who used to live in L.A. for several years. The reason why she shared the secret of this place with me is my constant complaining (yes I do that every now and then) about L.A., which in my view, is one of the most boring cities on the entire planet (I might have an “individual” bias here). My friend clearly wanted to prove me wrong. So here I am (I’m literally in Menotti’s while writing this post), following her advice to visit this place, which was supposed to completely change may mind about this city of dreams…. Continue reading

Some people would say that I’m privileged. Some people would call my travelling challenges “luxurious”. Some friends would simply just give everything for the experience I’m able to gain through my job.

And yes, I’ve heard every argument over the last three years while “floating” around the globe and I admit, every single one of them is almost correct. Deep inside me I know that. Really. I really, really know that.

You might wonder what I’m talking about, and why I’m highlighting this like crazy, right? Give me a second and I will explain: If you have already spent some time exploring BellyInLove, you might have noticed, that I do all sort of things. I’m sure that if you stay tuned on this blog, you will soon enough find out every single detail. However, my direct environment, mainly Knubbel, is facing my biggest weakness day by day. You see, I have this ‘dark’ side. And the problem with it is not something that only comes out when I play tennis (fuuu**ing racket; it is this sh**y wind; why the f**k am I not moving my ridiculous feet; etc) or on the tube (hey, idiot why are you pushing me – no eyes or what?; why does everyone in London start working at the same time – f**king hell it is so hot in here; why the f**k TFL just doesn’t purchase trains with f**king air-conditioning). No, the dark side does not come out only then. The dark side comes to life every day, at different level, with various strength. I would say it is like a handicap in golf – something like 108 or 500 over par. And this handicap is my (im)patience. Continue reading

It was Bubbel’s birthday few weeks ago. I personally could not wait. I think I looked forward to it so much more than he did, simply so that he could be that little bit less younger than me. The birthday was not until Thursday the following week, but I was so happy we were going to celebrate prematurely. Why? Well, here comes another fact about us; Bubbel is a year younger than me and he never misses out on the opportunity to remind me, that this  is a fact, that will never change!

His birthday date is kinda’ romantic, though. He was born on the same day that my parents got married ( different year though, of course).  Undoubtedly, a sign from the universe…

So we decided to celebrate in Dublin. We departed on Friday afternoon shortly after Bubbel opened his first present. There were three… Continue reading

Today Bubbel decided to terrorise me. For real. With FOOD! But let me explain from the start. Like in cooking, also here, the sequence of events is crucial.

This morning, 7am, we were woken up by the Amazon driver. He brought food. Plenty of food. I wish Bubbel was allowing me to take photos of him at the cracked dawn;  he’s a perfect image of an Italian (wo)man: messy hair (I’ve been telling him to have it cut for at least two weeks now but there seems to be some objections going on there), sexy (not) outfit… Heaven!

So 7am. We get at least five bags of, what looks like, potential feast for the belly. But I am obviously too busy getting ready, to investigate. So I have to face a WHOLE day of wondering, what he will cook! The terror begins! Continue reading

Today’s cooking ritual started with setting up rules of engagement. In other words, Bubble explained the dynamics at the kitchen counter; when he moves towards the oven… I move towards the fridge. When he walks away from the oven I am allowed to step back in.

Some would call it musical chairs… I call it a Kitchen Dancing as Bubble was a bit like Jonny in the famous Dirty Dancing scene.
Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don’t go into yours, you don’t go into mine.
And you are probably thinking that we had spaghetti for dinner. I will surprise you here…
The cooking went more less like this:

Continue reading