Scrambled Eggs
The Sparrow rejuvenated my impression of scrambled eggs. I thought I would never see the day when scrambled eggs weren’t offered as the egg option for people that don’t like them – that is, people that only like their eggs if they’re cooked to death, brown, rubbery and tasteless aside the liberal application of ketchup. The Sparrow’s scrambled eggs are the difference between eating a Hershey’s kiss and an artisan’s truffle; between eating a dyed supermarket tomato and one fresh from the vines of a garden; between a hot pocket and a pizza pulled straight from a wood-fired brick oven. You get the idea.
I wouldn’t say scrambled has now become my preferred way to eat eggs, but I certainly recognize that they can be a desirable option now. The trick to making good scrambled eggs is to basically do the opposite of what every diner seems to do. That is, cook them slowly over low heat, and only to a point, rather than as quickly as possible on a searing plaque. Dare I say, scrambled eggs can even be a touch runny when poured out of the pan. They will still be cooked through, only the proteins will have not completely coagulated, giving them a softer, creamier texture, almost like a condiment for toast as much as they are an item to themselves.
The French have a way of doing this which is a little too complex first thing in the morning for me. The whites and yolks are beaten separately, then cooked gently over a bain marie (a double boiler; any non-reactive bowl that can be placed over a pot of hot water without its bottom being immersed), the whites first until they just begin to set, then the yolks added for the remainder of the cooking time. This requires dirtying no less than five dishes and is a considerable pain before morning coffee. No doubt delicious, but too ambitious, let’s say.
I do not know for certain how The Sparrow prepares their scrambled eggs, but I’ve devised a method that emulates them to a close enough facsimile. Their eggs rest atop a large slice of rustic toast and are served with house smoked salmon. When summer hits, I hope to achieve the same thing with my own smoker, but in the meantime, just the eggs will have to do. Knowing for a fact that they contain creme fraiche and chives by simply reading the menu, don’t give me too much credit if this helps you successfully duplicate the dish for yourself.
My general rule is to make two large eggs plus one additional egg for every two people. So five eggs for two, seven eggs for three, ten eggs for four. Why? I don’t know, it just seems like the right amount. The addition of cold butter melts during the cooking, and not only gives you a bit of a temperature safeguard, but simultaneously flavors the eggs and gives them a silky texture.
Every cooking show I’ve ever watched will say that you can substitute sour cream for creme fraiche, and while you technically can make such a substitution here, it’s really not the same. You can substitute Greek yogurt for sour cream, but you will certainly notice the difference, if you get my meaning. Texturally they are quite similar, but the flavor of creme fraiche is a better compliment to eggs than sour cream, in my opinion. Here in Quebec, Liberte makes a wonderful creme fraiche, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if that’s also what The Sparrow used in their kitchen.

- 5 large eggs, room temperature
- 1 heaping tablespoon creme fraiche
- 2 teaspoons cold salted butter, diced
- 1 tablespoon fresh chives, minced
- Whisk the eggs together, at least enough to break apart the yolks, then stir in the creme fraiche and 1 teaspoon of the cold butter.
- In a large nonstick pan over medium-low heat, gently melt the remaining butter. Once it has melted, add the eggs.
- Stir the eggs often with a spatula, making sure to reduce the heat if they begin to brown. The idea is to cook them slowly so they do not become rubbery, but not so slowly that you feel as though you’re laboriously stirring at the stove!
- When most of the eggs have set into pillowy curds and just a touch of liquid remains, remove the pan from the heat and fold in the chives. The carryover heat from the pan should be just enough to finish cooking the eggs to the perfect consistency, the cold butter and creme fraiche having melted into the eggs giving them a luxurious texture. Spoon the eggs over a generous slice of toast and season to your preference with additional salt and some freshly ground pepper.


the eggs half cooked ?
The eggs are only “half cooked” in the sense that they must be overdone to be “fully cooked” ;) It’s the scrambled eggs for people who like their yolks runny essentially. It’s a taste and textural preference.
duck fat, baby:)
I save the duck fat for the hashbrowns ;)