Some of my favorite meals come out of my kitchen at home and the restaurants around my hometown (Westchester County and NYC). However, as I go through summer, there is a part of my palate that misses the selections at the Heilman Dining Center: the amazing deserts, Mongolian Grill, and of course the unlimited bacon at breakfast.

But as I cook myself mediocre scrambled eggs, it becomes apparent that the thing I miss the most at D-hall is the made-to-order eggs. I made it to breakfast almost every morning during Freshman year; fighting through hangovers, sleep deprivation during finals week, and bad weather. A large reason for that was to get the freshly grilled eggs. There are a lot of students like me who cherish the egg line; we are the few and the proud. It doesn't matter the size of the line—we will wait for our eggs. The egg line at D-hall is a full-circle experience: filled with it's own language, a cast of characters, and, hopefully in the end, a plate full of eggs exactly how you ordered them.

There's a certain jargon to ordering eggs at UR that many incoming freshmen may be unaware of. Similar to Pat's cheesesteaks in Philadelphia, if you don't use the correct wording, you will get some attitude in return. My first order was a disaster. I can't speak for everyone North of the Mason-Dixon, but in my area of NY, you can have your eggs cooked over-easy, over-medium, or fried. At UR, "fried eggs" translates to "over-hard"; fried eggs are the umbrella term over the three styles of eggs. So, when it got to my order and the women behind the griddle said, "Whatcha havin'?" I responded, "Can I have two fried eggs please?" She looked confused and said "Yes, I know you want fried eggs. How would you like them?" Startled by her response, I settled for something we would both understand: over-easy. It took some keen observations on line the next few days to realize I wanted my eggs cooked "hard."

The characters on the egg line are diverse. There are your egg whites crew, the gym rats and athletes whose order takes up the entire griddle and order much like Ron Swanson, the ones who come prepared with their toasted bagels, and the "regulars." This last group of people come almost every day, if not seven times a week. While in line with their friends they may brag about how the person cooking the eggs, "knows their order." So when it is finally their turn to order, they don't say anything, expecting the chef to crack their eggs. Ten seconds of awkward eye contact ensues, before the "regular" must succumb to ordering her "two eggs over medium."

While the made-to-order eggs are always a great choice for breakfast, 100% satisfaction is not guaranteed. Sure, there are the times when I ordered three eggs over easy with yellow cheese and received two over easy with white cheese. The yolk on my over-easy has cracked upon transferring from the griddle to the plate more times than not, but my love for the egg line remains solidified. The long lines have deterred people from waiting before, but I believe it is worth the wait; and there's nothing more exhilerating than scarfing down the eggs five minutes before my 9 a.m. starts in Gottwald.