Curry Scramble — The Morning After I Almost Wrote the Introduction

The cookbook is taking shape. I write every morning at 5 AM. The chapters are forming: "The Folgers Can" (fried chicken), "Season by Feel" (grits and cornbread), "Southern with Sense" (the healthier adaptations), "The Table" (Sunday dinner), "Set the Table" (scrambled eggs and the girls), "The Blended Kitchen" (Claudette's rice and peas alongside Mama's greens). Each chapter is a recipe wrapped in a story, or a story wrapped in a recipe — I can't tell which is the bread and which is the filling and maybe they're the same thing.

I tried to write the introduction. THE introduction. The one I've been unable to write since I started the notebook seven years ago. I sat at the table at 5 AM with coffee and the Folgers can and I typed: "My mother taught me that love is not a feeling." And then I stopped. Because the next sentence wants to be about Mama and Mama is everywhere — in the can, in the kitchen, in the chicken, in my hands — but putting her on the page, in the introduction, in the FIRST words of the book, requires a kind of finality that I'm not ready for. The introduction says: this is the book. This is done. This is the complete story of Brenda Jackson's kitchen, written by her daughter, published, permanent. And the permanence scares me because permanent means I can't add more. Permanent means the story has an ending. And Mama's story doesn't have an ending. Mama's story is in every meal I cook and every girl I teach and every child I feed and the story doesn't end. The story continues. How do you write an introduction to a story that continues?

I closed the laptop. I made breakfast. The introduction will wait. The introduction has been waiting for seven years. It can wait a little longer. The recipes are ready. The stories are ready. The introduction will come when the right morning comes and the light through the window is just right and the coffee is strong and the Folgers can catches the glow and the words arrive the way garlic arrives in oil: suddenly, fragrantly, undeniably.

After I closed the laptop that morning — after “My mother taught me that love is not a feeling” sat alone on the screen without a second sentence — I went to the kitchen because the kitchen has never asked me to finish anything, only to start. The curry scramble is the recipe that lives in the “Set the Table” chapter, the one about teaching the girls that breakfast can be an act of intention, not just habit. The turmeric is golden the way morning light is golden, and the warmth of it, the fragrance of it hitting the pan, reminded me that the introduction can wait — but the people at the table right now cannot.

Curry Scramble

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

• 4 large eggs
• 2 tablespoons milk (dairy or unsweetened non-dairy)
• 1/2 teaspoon curry powder
• 1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper (or to taste)
• Salt and black pepper, to taste
• 1 tablespoon olive oil or butter
• 1/4 cup diced yellow onion
• 1/4 cup diced red bell pepper
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro or flat-leaf parsley, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

1. Whisk the eggs. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, curry powder, turmeric, cumin, cayenne, salt, and pepper until the spices are fully incorporated and the mixture is slightly frothy. Set aside.
2. Sauté the aromatics. Heat olive oil or butter in a non-stick skillet over medium heat. Add the diced onion and red bell pepper and cook for 3–4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until softened. Add the minced garlic and cook for 30 seconds more until fragrant.
3. Scramble the eggs. Pour the egg mixture over the vegetables in the skillet. Let the eggs begin to set at the edges, about 30 seconds, then use a rubber spatula to gently fold and push the eggs from the outside in. Cook over medium-low heat, continuing to fold slowly, until the eggs are just set and still slightly glossy — about 3–4 minutes. Do not overcook.
4. Finish and serve. Remove the skillet from heat while the eggs still look slightly underdone; residual heat will finish them. Taste and adjust seasoning. Transfer to plates and garnish with fresh cilantro or parsley. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 5g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 220mg