histories benedict

My father makes the best eggs benedict you'll find. I don't order it in restaurants because I know it'll be a disappointment. It graces most family gatherings, accompanied sometimes with spats, but always with piles and piles of dirty china, crystal, linens (it merits the good stuff), and lip-smacking, satisfied kin. According to this impressively lengthy NYT article, the dish's provenance, like our meals, is not unmixed with controversy and benign eccentrics.

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