Le Moignon Baguette correspondent/honorary Buzzfeed observer Hestia sat down with acclaimed chef Rordon Gamsay, winner of 19 Bemachelin diamonds in his newly opened restaurant in Seattle.

The five hour dreadful bus ride to Seattle, including the overly stringent interrogation at the border, was overshadowed by the glory of L’oeuf Cru, the new restaurant by Gamsay that’s yet to be revealed to the public. L’ouef Cru stands on the pier, like an egg yolk elegantly fading into the West Coast’s story environment.

In a scarce 30 minutes of time before Gamsay came from the back of the kitchen to welcome my drenched arrival. During the time, Gamsay had prepared the sacred ingredients to make one of the star dishes the restaurant has to offer.

The caviar container and tub of creme fraiche captured my eyes. The carton of 6 organic, free-range, cage-free, Grade A eggs stood splendid on the countertop. A perfect brick of butter lies in a small plate. Intrigued, I asked Mr Gamsay if he was going to make an luxurious take on Creme Fraiche Eggs en Cotte, a delightful and often forgotten breakfast/brunch dish. He shook his head, almost in disappointment.

A souffle, perhaps? He shook his head again.

I then asked if he was going to make an aspiring egg-yolk ravioli. He seems astounded at my creativity and open-minded thinking, then shook his head again, commenting on the flavours’ incompetency to complement each other.

With that remark, I have successfully established myself as a naive, unknowledgeable cooking amateur to Mr Gamsay. He finally informed me we were making scrambled eggs. (Disclaimer from the Gazette: This was the utmost exclusive and interactive experience the Gazette could book with its gracious budget.)

He cracked all the delicate eggs into a gleaming, silver pan and started cubing the butter. Confused, I asked what in the world is he doing. He profoundly claimed he was making “scrambled eggs.”

When the eggs started clumping, Mr Gamsay removed them from the heat and placed a tablespoon of creme fraiche in the mixture. Then, he placed them back on the heat.

What was produced was “scrambled eggs:” a soft and liquid-like mixture that seems to be made by Minions, with a sprinkle of very finely minced chives and freshly ground black pepper. He then laid a spoonful of “herbed” creme fraiche, ornated with pearls of caviar.

Slightly alarmed at the lack of soy sauce in scrambled eggs, and the addition of dairy, I stood paralyzed.

The eggs were excellent, elevated to an exotic level with the beautifully farmed caviar. Unfortunately, the influence of the creme fraiche has overpowered the eggs to lose the soy sauce and green onion flavour scrambled eggs should always possess. L’ouef Cru, I believe is named for a good reason. The translation of the name, Raw Egg, affirms that Gamsay’s restaurant should just leave its eggs unprocessed.

I leave Seattle with a poorly reviewed scrambled egg in a take-out box, and an unsettling feeling in my stomach. (Most likely because I’m lactose intolerant).

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Grace hides behind facades of non-existent people and third person narratives (or really, anything that does not mention "I"). She's currently in the midst of a somewhat existential crisis and on her way to find her identity. During her wanderings inside the submerged cognitive labyrinth, Grace carries a string that either leads her to a spring of light, or rolls her back into the hands of reality. Unwilling to be detached from this mystifying site, the blade of satire protects her from considerable damage. Let's pray for her welfare in the dark ruins. Or as some would prefer, let's afflict her with headaches and impede her progress with unexplainable mathematical logic. Anyone who would like to make a kind donation, you are welcome to offer soy sauce and pre-made soy sauce scrambled eggs (NO DAIRY) at her suppositional GoFundMe site.

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