Why will men, including ones who don’t cook any other meal, cheerfully make breakfast? Is it because if they make toast without burning it, it becomes “amazingly good toast”? Is it because when they add a “magic ingredient” (taco-sauce) to their eggs, they can then call them “my mean scrambled eggs” or refer to themselves in the third person as “The Omelet Master”? You know that if a guy can explain — without looking at notes from an electronic device — what it means to coddle an egg, he firmly believes he should have his own show on the Food Network. Yes, of course, I’m making sweeping gender-specific generalizations, but...
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