In my home when I was growing up, the fried egg sandwiches that my dad made were called a One-Eyed Sailor or a St. Paul sandwich. I have no idea where the latter name came from, but the former is obvious; Cyclops would have been even more appropriate.

This sandwich is made with exactly one egg (sorry, zgirl) and one piece of bread, nice and big. Lay the bread on a flat surface and, using an upturned drinking glass, drill into the middle, removing a bread disc. Throw the slice into the frying pan (preferably, as is the consensus, one that was just used to cook a batch of bacon (and then drained, of course), but hey, use PAM if you need to). Then crack an egg into the hole. Sorry fab, but you pretty much have to break the yolk and let it cook hard, since there won't be any bread underneath to perform the vital sopping duties. When it's cooked enough to make it practicable, quickly flip the bread so the other side of the egg can cook also. The particularly adroit among you may be able to slip the cut-out disc back into place and let the cooking egg weld it back onto the whole, but it's easier just to snack on it while the sandwich cooks.

Now enjoy, generally on a plate but you could eat it out of your hand if you cooked it thoroughly. We liked 'em simple, but were I of a mind to pursue it now, I might experiment with tossing some extras in with the egg, maybe a little bit of minced onion, or Tabasco sauce. There's not a lot of room to work with (for this part, you'd probably be thinking more along omelette lines rather than sandwich), so things like a tomato slice or avocado need to be saved for the next time you make one of the more conventional forms of a fried egg sandwich.