Lesson One
At the sound of her alarm, Apple Bloom jumped out of bed, ran out her bedroom door, down the hall, and into the bathroom. She quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face. And, with a quick brush of her hair, she was done.
Returning to her room, she stripped off her pajamas, tossing them haphazardly onto her bed, and pulled on her clothes.
She dashed from her room and flew down the stairs. Using the bottom newel as a pivot point, she rounded the corner and took off down the hall before sliding into the kitchen.
“Mornin, Granny!” she said, cheerfully.
“Mornin' Apple Bloom,” Granny Smith hugged her youngest granddaughter, “Y'all ready ta get started?”
“Yeah!” the little girl cheered.
She had been waiting for this day for years. Ever since she first watched her big sister assisting in the kitchen, she had been wanting to help out, too. But every time she was turned down for being “too small”.
Well, that all changed when Granny declared she was now tall enough to look down over the stove top.
She had done little things before. But, now, things were getting serious. Now, she could actually cook things.
“Well, come along,” Granny said, “Breakfast ain't gonna fix itself.”
Apple Bloom ran straight to the stove. “What are we gonna cook first, Granny?”
“Just hold yer horses one moment, li'l missy,” Granny laughed, “Thar's some things we gotta do first.” She pulled a small hair elastic from her pocket and handed it to the girl. “Firstly, we gotta put our hair up.”
Apple Bloom put her hair into a ponytail. “Now what?”
“Next,” Granny continued, guiding the girl to the sink, “we wash our hands.”
Apple Bloom hung the hand towel to dry. “Can we cook now?”
Granny gave a sly smile. “Jus' one more thing.” She held up a little piece of cloth and Apple Bloom's eyes widened.
How could she have forgotten? With full enthusiasm, she accepted the apron and put it on. She ran her hands across the garment, ironing out the creases. This apron had first been given to Big Mac. Later, it was passed onto Applejack. Now, it was Apple Bloom's.
“Now,” Granny announced, “we can start cooking.”
“Yes!” Apple Bloom double fist pumped, “What're we gonna make first? Waffles? Pancakes? Omelets? Quiche?”
Granny chuckled, closing the refrigerator door. “Better ta start simply. We'll make some eggs.” She guided her granddaughter to the stove. “Now then, we'll put some butter in a pan and let that melt over a low heat.”
Apple Bloom did as told and waited impatiently for further instruction.
Granny put a small mixing bowl on the counter. “Next, we'll gently crack some eggs inta the bowl.”
Apple Bloom took an egg from the carton and was about to hit it against the side of the bowl before her grandmother stopped her.
“Not there,” the elderly woman said. She took the egg and gave it a sharp tap on the top of the counter top. “Here. You'll have less chance of getting eggshells in your egg this way.”
Apple Bloom quickly saw that the hit had cleanly broken the shell in two and watched intently as Granny separated the two halves, letting a perfect whites and yolk fall into the bowl.
With a new egg in hand, Apple Bloom attempted as demonstrated.
The first hit wasn't hard enough. It cracked and deformed the shell, but didn't break open the egg. Granny took the failed attempt and set it aside, giving Apple Bloom a fresh egg.
The second try, Apple Bloom applied too much force behind her hit and ended up not just breaking open the egg, but also spattering it all over the work surface. Granny chuckled as she cleaned up the mess and presented a new egg.
Applying a bit more finesse, and controlled force, Apple Bloom hit the egg against the counter and, to her joy, it broke just like Granny's. With pride, she separated the shell and dropped the contents into the bowl.
Granny was quick to praise. “Let's do one more,” she said, handing over another egg.
Flawlessly, Apple Bloom cracked the egg and put it in the bowl.
“Now then,” Granny continued, “let's check on our pan.”
Apple Bloom went to the stove.
“How's our butter lookin'?”
“It's a golden brown.”
“Good. Let's grab our eggs and gently pour 'em inta the pan.”
A satisfying sizzle sounded as the raw egg hit the hot surface.
“Next, season up those suckers.”
Apple Bloom ground salt and pepper onto the frying eggs. “Now what?” she asked.
“We help 'em along.” She handed Apple Bloom a spatula. “Push 'em a little closer together an' clean em up some.”
Apple Bloom used the utensil to push the yolks closer together and pull in some of the outlying whites.
“Use the spatula ta cut around the yolks a little bit. It'll help the whites cook through.”
Apple Bloom did as told. Unfortunately, she hit one of the yolks and it broke open, spilling out into the pan.
Apple Bloom's spirits instantly fell.
“That's okay,” Granny cheered her up, producing a whisk, “We'll make 'em scrambled eggs.”
Apple Bloom took the whisk to the pan and began breaking up the eggs. It required a bit of force, but she got it done. Though, not all the egg remained in the pan.
With the egg successfully scrambled, Granny gave the spatula back to Apple Bloom and the child continued tending to the pan.
“Are they ready yet, Granny?”
“You tell me” her grandmother said, “Yer the cook.”
The child looked at the pan. From what she had learned before, she knew that she had to wait until it looked like there was no liquid remaining. Liquid meant it was still raw.
Apple Bloom didn't see any liquid. In fact, the egg in the pan looked solid, fluffy, and bright—all things wanted with scrambled eggs.
Yet, doubt lingered in her mind. What if they weren't done? What if there was some liquid she couldn't see? What if it looked cooked on the outside, but not on the inside?
Weighing her options, Apple Bloom decided to let the eggs cook a little further.
She continued to stir the egg, ensuring that all sides cooked evenly. It wasn't long before the bits started to darken. Light tan turned to golden brown, golden brown turned to dark brown, dark brown turned to black.
At which point, Apple Bloom quickly turned off the heat and removed the egg into a plate which Granny had on-hand.
Granny gave the product a contemplative hum before setting it on the kitchen table. “Let's have a little taste, shall we?”
Apple Bloom slowly nodded, though she wasn't very enthusiastic about it.
The two took a seat at the table, forks in hand. Apple Bloom watched intently as Granny stuck her fork into the well-cooked egg, pulled up a piece, moved it up to her mouth and took a bite.
“Well?” the girl squeaked.
Granny tried to hide her true feelings. “Well... Uh...”
The girl's shoulders slumped. “Not good.” She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“It's okay, hon” Granny said, tenderly, “It's yer first time after all.” Seeing it didn't seem to help the girl's spirits, she smiled, “Hang on.”
Apple Bloom waited at the table in silence as Granny went to the refrigerator. She could hear the elderly woman rummaging around before hearing the door close shut. She listened as her grandmother walked back to the table and watched as she placed down a large, round object.
“Chicken?” the girl yelped, “Granny, I can't even cook an egg, what makes ya think I can cook a chicken?”
“It's okay, hon,” Granny smiled, “just give a go. It's as they say: If yer first yolks don't succeed, try ta fry a hen.”