Nanny Eggs

A few of you have actually been curious (or kind) enough to ask about Nanny Eggs.  Thanks for asking. 

I was well into my teen years when the bomb was dropped on me and the truth was revealed about “Nanny Eggs”.  It happened one sunny summer day at a restaurant somewhere down south.  I can’t recall exactly where we were or even who I was with.  I think I was so devasted that I am unable to remember the details.  But who needs to remember anything once a cherished piece of my childhood has been crushed? 

The waitress arrived all bubbly and cute in her pink and white apron and asked for our order.  I decided on eggs for some protein to get me through the day’s travel.  I looked up at her and confidently said, “I will have the “something, something” platter and please make my eggs Nanny Eggs.  Thanks.”  With that I handed the menu to the girl.

Then I saw it.  She looked at me real funny.  Again she asked me what kind of eggs I would like. 

“Nanny Eggs.” 

Her response was very similar to her first. 

“What kind of eggs do you want?” 

“N-A-N-N-Y Eggs.”  I felt like she needed a spelling lesson. 

“I don’t think we have N-A-N-N-Y Eggs, dear,” she replied.

“What?  No Nanny Eggs? ”

She asked me to describe them. 

That is when I think I really embarrassed myself.

“You know, the kind my Nanny makes,”  I said with great pride.

“OOOH!   That clears this up.  And who the heck is Nanny?”  She said getting a bit frustrated. 

Well, my mom scrambles eggs and they are okay.  I like them just fine but my Nanny only serves me eggs her way.  And when I want them at home, I simply ask for Nanny eggs and in a few minutes, there they are.  NIce and warm and yummy.  Each bite makes me think of my Nanny. 

“So, are they not scrambled?” 


“Eggs Benedict?”

“Eggs what?”

“So they must be fried.”  She smiled.  She continued by explaining to me what a fried egg was and how one could choose the middle.  After five minutes of going down Nostalgia Lane, the case was solved. 

All I wanted was fried eggs over medium. 

You want to know something really lame (and funny)?  I just turned to my husband and asked, “How do I like those fried eggs, you know, my Nanny eggs?” 

So maybe I still have a little catching up to do on my egg terminology.  My husband says I can call them whatever I want as long as I keep cooking them.  As far as he’s concerned, I can continue to call them Nanny Eggs all I want.

I think I will, thankyouverymuch.




  1. Posted June 16, 2008 at 12:46 pm | Permalink

    LOL! That is so cute. Bet your nanny loves to know you ask for them that way.

  2. Posted June 16, 2008 at 5:01 pm | Permalink

    Thank you for your post on my blog. Jordan passed along yours to me a few days ago and I have enjoyed reading it. I love your “Nanny Eggs” story! It cracks me up that you actually asked for them in a restaurant. Too Funny!!!!!!

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