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One long ago and forgotten morning in 1894 or so, a man by the name of Samuel Benedict walked or ( more accurately) crawled into the Old Waldorf-Astoria Hotel (where the Empire State Building now stands). He was suffering through the regretful aftermath of happy intoxication and his head was presumably clocked at T-minus 0 to blast-off. However, being a New York socialite he felt compelled to make his obligatory and dignified appearance at the breakfast table, rather than lay down and die like a normal person.

Despite his mournful and painful delirium, Benedict was still a resourceful man. He wouldn’t allow a headache, one to rival Mount St. Helens moments before its 1980 eruption, impede his concocting what he thought was the perfect remedy. He ordered a breakfast of poached eggs served on buttered toast and topped with bacon and hollandaise sauce. The fulsome Oscar, maitre d’hotel and professional sycophant, complimented Benedict on his desired miracle cure. But Oscar, not to be outdone and also a resourceful man in such moments of crisis and opportunities for bigger tips, added a modification. This brilliant steward of the idle rich substituted an English muffin for the toast and ham for the bacon, naming the dish in Benedict’s honor; hence, furthering, with this culinary appellation, his chances for increased and steady gratuities in the future.

Even though the Benedict/ Oscar breakthrough doesn’t rate with the great inventions and discoveries of human civilization (a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?…now that’s something!!!), the rich and aimless are a source of constant amusement and provide fascinating material for, among other things, posting purposes. It’s not even known if Benedict’s hangover was cured or not. In any event, I just had to find out exactly what eggs benedict was all about. There were times, in my ne’er-do-well but spirited days at NYU (a college which once offered the highest form of entertainment on earth), that eggs benedict could have helped me in those hungover mornings after and just before my first class: Calculus!!!. Then again, that sort of pretentiousness might have been too rich for my blood and I’d only come away with egg on my face …and all over the place.