Recipe: For Extra-Rich Scrambled Eggs, Reserve Your Yolks

Can we agree that, at least according to internet logic, your intrinsic value as a human being can be accurately pegged to exactly how creamy you like your scrambled eggs?

Good. Because today I wanted to share a technique that will prove your personal value using very minimal ingredients, giving your scrambled eggs a really unique richness, density, and creaminess. These are the kind of eggs that will show the world exactly what kind of person you are: An honorable one. (Or at least one who likes creamy scrambled eggs, which may as well be the same thing.)

I’ve got no shortage of existing scrambled egg recipes in my back catalogue, many of them designed to address this exact issue. Aside from pizza, it’s easily the dish I’ve cooked most in my life. It’s probably the dish a good chunk of you reading this have cooked the most in your life as well.

In my first book, The Food Lab, I had not just one, but TWO recipes for scrambled eggs: one for good, kind, decent people who like them soft and creamy (very low heat, constant stirring, butter ) and one for the ethically insolvent, who prefer them light and fluffy (high heat, less stirring, oil or butter, a dash of moral turpitude ). I have videos showing how to make Really Good Scrambled Eggs (that’s “Really Good” in the Fred Rogers sense), which are not to be confused with the equally upstanding extra-creamy scrambled eggs. There’s also one for half-scrambled eggs, a recipe that admittedly enters an ethical gray zone, but winds back up above grade if you make sure to season them with a smidgen of compassion and perhaps some humility on the side.

In my second book, The Wok, not only do I have nearly an entire chapter devoted to scrambled eggs of various kinds, they’re actually arranged in order of tenderness. You can sail through dishes like Silky Scrambled Eggs with Tofu with an unshakeable moral rudder, or dance to the principled drum beat of Cantonese scrambled eggs with Tomato. Though you may end up questioning your worth if you enjoy the devilish delights of Whompoa scrambled eggs, with their hard-cooked bottoms and near-liquid tops (Chinese Cooking Demystified, whose integrity should not be questioned, have a great video on that technique ). Those eggs are just a little bit bad, but they do it so well.

In the New York Times I’ve published a complicated recipe for Extra-Creamy Scrambled Eggs that use a bit of a cornstarch slurry to keep them righteously moist, and for Velvety Scrambled Eggs, a unique technique that has you drizzle beaten eggs into simmering heavy cream in lieu of oil or butter, resulting in a tangle of ribbon-like curds enrobed in a rich, velvety soft scramble that drips with cream and virtue.

Today’s recipe uses a trick I learned from Jacques Pépin*, who I talked to on the phone about scrambled eggs when I was working on that a New York Times piece a few years ago.

The idea to me is really obvious in retrospect. Many scrambled egg recipes suggest adding a splash of cold cream or crème fraîche to the eggs as they finish cooking in order to cool them and stop them from overcooking. So rather than dilute the egg flavor with extra dairy, why not simply reserve some of the raw egg, scramble the rest, then add back the reserve egg at the end to halt the cooking?

It’s remarkably effective. The raw eggs added back at the end cook through with the residual heat from the already-cooked eggs while simultaneously cooling them and preventing them from turning rubbery or dry.

Since then, I’ve experimented with the method a number of times. Mr. Pépin initially suggested reserving some of the already-beaten whole egg to add at the end. But what if I reserved just egg whites or just egg yolks instead of whole eggs? Of these options, reserving just yolks resulted in the richest, most tender results with the brightest orange color, so that’s typically what I do when I want my eggs… ethically moist? Righetously dewy? Virtuously damp?

(If you want to make extra sure you’re headed up instead of down, try finishing your scramble with a few extra egg yolks—6 yolks for every four eggs is a good ratio.)

One of these days I’ll write a whole book devoted to different scrambled egg techniques organized by the likelihood that they will assist you in getting that pre-check mark on your ticket to the afterlife.

Egg Yolk Scrambled Eggs

Serves 4

4 eggs

Salt

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1. Combine two whole eggs and two egg whites in a small bowl (reserve the reaming two egg yolks). Add a pinch of salt to the bowl and beat the eggs until homogenous and frothy, about 30 seconds.

2. Have the beaten eggs, egg yolks, and a serving platter nearby. This goes fast and eggs overcook really easily. Heat the butter in a small nonstick or cast iron pan over medium heat, swirling constantly until the butter is melted and foamy but not browned. Immediately add the beaten eggs and cook, stirring constantly with a rubber spatula until they are just barely set but still a little bit wetter than you’d like to eat them, about 30 seconds. Remove the pan from heat and add the reserved egg yolks. Stir them in off heat and keep stirring until the eggs are slightly undercooked for your taste (they’ll continue setting on the plate) and immediately transfer to a serving platter. Serve.