Kina has been through several phases with eggs, vacillating back and forth over the last four years between loving eggs and loathing them. Laurea and I, in the meantime, have developed real expertise in the art of the cheesy scrambled egg, and I can guarantee that you would love them, but I cannot make the same promise for Kina, who currently favors the egg, but only if it is “burning hot”—the kind of temperature that requires you keep your mouth open while you chew. Heat like that is a limited engagement, of course, and so the rare egg breakfast we share is extremely quiet and urgent. When the eggs are no longer scalding hot, Kina stands down, regardless of how much egg remains. Yesterday, she made it all the wat through, extremely proud and mildly burned—but in precisely the fashion she signed up for. You should join her sometime, but leave your mouth open. The eggs are hot.