For Super Flavorful Eggs, Fry Them in Leftover Fats

I contain a fearsome resolve to use all the by-products in my kitchen and it’s a determination that drives me to innovation. Once, while I was blending parsnip tops for a deviant pesto, my English former roommate declared my project: “Very medieval.” I think she currently lives in Berlin (with everyone else interesting), but I wish she was here to see how far my waste-less worldview has taken me. My latest trick: frying my eggs in leftover fats.

My first and favorite surplus oil—and to date the greatest crowd pleaser—is the stuff left over in jars of sun-dried tomatoes. Knowing me as you do, you can imagine how my sentimental spirit twitched, seeing shimmering orange oil lingering after the supposed stars of the show had exited stage left. All dressed up with nowhere to go! Out of kindness and thrift, I gave the leftover oil a second chance by coaxing it into a pan and dropping in an egg to fry on top. The whites turned a wild shade of pink-orange (very ’80s South Beach). And they tasted just as optimistic, luxe, and full of sunshine-y warmth—blessed with tangy, springy tartness from the sun-dried toms.

Flavor aside, what I like so much about this practice is that it requires no effort. Spilling out leftover sun-dried tomato oil is no more strain than hacking off a knob of butter or drizzling some olive oil. Sometimes, depending on the brand, you don’t even need to add salt! This is a deeply one-step event. After it’s cooked, slide the excess oil and fried egg over a slice of sourdough or a hearty tangle of arugula and you’ve got the sauce and the showstopper in one. So don’t be stingy with the oil. After all, it’s leftovers. You’re already saving something that might have been wasted, so consider that permission to be profligate.

Like many people, the principle to conserve delicious fats is part of my cooking origin story. When I’d grown tall enough to see over a kitchen counter, my then-best friend was from a New Orleanian family, and, naturally, there was always a hazy jar by their stove with a lid permanently askew. When I learned this was bacon fat—and you saved it and used it to cook everything, so help you God!—I was transfixed and immediately told my parents we must act accordingly. From the get, I was a staunch, self-appointed acolyte of the Bacon Fat Preserver Society. Though it took decades, my fervent protection of this meat grease has finally expanded outwards into an entire philosophy: fats are precious and must be saved.

Have there been failures? Of course! The oil-packed olives debacle of February 2022 was a disaster. I think there was some water content in the oil, which singed the eggs awfully and caused them to pinch up like clenched little fists—and I absolutely could not hang with the saltiness. The oil around habanero chilis was an excellent, fervently spicy addition to the egg. However, I did poison the kitchen with noxious, peppery air until I remembered to turn on the fan. (Not before inflicting teary eyes on two sweet houseguests.)