Fried Eggs and Greens

Spring sprang early in Washington. The weather is still bouncing from windy to warm to steamy to shivering and back again, but the days are longer, the sun shines most every day, and this week, we've already had a couple days north of 80 degrees. I'm told spring vegetables are nearly ready to pick. The guys at Toigo Orchards told me the asparagus are about 4 inches long. Prepare yourselves: if historytells us anything, it's I may have trouble posting about much else. Still, I'm pretty excited that the market has things other than beets and kale.

Ramps hit the market a couple weeks ago, and while I've decided perhaps they're unworthy of cultish obsession, I did buy a couple bunches. Now that Passover's over, I'll bake up a batch of these cheesy scones with ramps, which I made and loved last year. Last week, I blitzed them into this ramp pesto, which accompanied us faithfully into last summer. And now that we've got a deck (more on that in a moment), I'm picturing grilled whole fish, shmeared with the stuff, finished with lemon. It doesn't get much better that that.

So....we have a deck. As of last weekend, that deck has an L-shaped couch perfect for cozying up with a book; an actual dining table with room for 6 or 8, the better to share the sun and fun with loved ones; and three big planters, in which I'll just planted thyme, dill, basil, cilantro, parsley, mint, and carrots. We spent this weekend outside, on the deck and in the park. We've started looking at grills, and while I haven't quite made up my mind in the ages-old charcoal-vs.-gas debate, I've got my eye on an inexpensive smoker to accompany whichever grill we do end up buying. We're so close to homemade bbq, I can taste it.

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For now, we're eating outside but cooking in. Sunday morning, a quick trip to the market turned up beautiful mixed stir-fry greens. By 10 am, it was already 75 and sunny out. I cooked up a pile of greens as a bed for fried eggs, and we ate them atop fresh, toasted slices of struan bread. Perfect sunday brunch, it was just the thing to break in our deck. But I know we'll be having them again soon, as a light dinner or a weekend lunch. You should, too.

Fried Eggs and Greens Serves 1-2, but easily doubled

This recipe is dead simple, so quality ingredients make all the difference. I used Keswick Creamery feta, which is creamy and tangy. If your feta is more subdued, you might squeeze a small slice of lemon over the eggs before serving.

2 pieces sausage or bacon, diced (I used Morningstar Farms bacon, but I think sausage would be amazing here) 5 oz. greens - spinach, chard, and blends all work 1 tablespoon olive oil (probably less if using real bacon) 2 fresh eggs, preferably organic About 1 ounce feta Salt and pepper Pinch smoked paprika Wedge of lemon, optional Two thick slices of your favorite bread

Set a medium sauté pan over medium heat. If using fake bacon, pour half the olive oil in the pan. Fry bacon until it begins to crisp (and, if it's real, renders its fat). Add the other half olive oil if using, and then add the greens. Toss to coat all of them with the fat, then cook an additional minute or two, until they begin to wilt. Season with salt and pepper to taste. (You need to taste as you season; bacon is salty, and you don't want to over-salt the greens.)

Spread the greens so they form two little beds, and crack each of the eggs into its own little bed. Cover the pan (tin foil or a big, heavy pan both work if your pan doesn't have a cover, which mine doesn't), and cook another 2-3 minutes, checking every minute or so, until the whites are just set and the yolk is still quivering. Err on the side of checking frequently and cooking quickly; you really don't want to overcook the eggs. That said, the greens do serve as a barrier, preventing the bottom of the yolk from getting too stiff.

While the eggs cook, toast the bread and get out one or two plates for serving.

When eggs a done cooking, turn off the heat. Sprinkle feta over eggs, and perhaps just the tiniest bit of maldon salt (not a lot! Feta is salty.) Finish with the smoked paprika and freshly cracked pepper, as well as a squeeze of lemon, if you'd like.

Serve bread slices, topped with greens, then the sunny-side up eggs. And maybe hot coffee. Sigh.

What I'm Reading, April 2012

I've been collecting these little links and iphone shots for a while now, planning to share them during a particularly slow cooking week. That up there is a little dish I riffed after our meal at Lupa - it's salsify, braised in citrus and butter. It was delicious. Passover is usually quiet in the kitchen, though this week I've cooked a bunch: crisp-skinned roast chicken, beets with pesto vinaigrette, and my favorite Passover cookies. I'd tell you to check in for (another) chicken post later this week, but sadly that's on hold, as I tried to spatchcock a bird for D's birthday but people, I cut the wrong side of the chicken. Would you judge me if I posted pictures of a bird spatchcocked backward? Breasts on the bottom, legs on the sides - really, totally, backward.  No less delicious, but sort of goofy-looking. I can't quite bring myself to share it. Meanwhile, I figure it's time I shared all these with you.  Enjoy, and happy holidays.

The genius Kristen Miglore on moderation, April Bloomfield's new book, and a lemon caper dressing I will be making asap: "It's the simple law of diminishing returns. Grown-ups know better than to pack a whole avocado in their salad, lest they compromise the pleasure of finding a single slice in the bottom of the bowl. 'It's the difference between giving people what they think they want and giving them what will be truly amazing," Bloomfield explains in the book.'"

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Tamar Adler's inspiring video on roasting the vegetables you'll need for the week all at once. I've used this technique a couple times now, and it's really perfect. I love having roasted chunks of beets, carrots, cauliflower, parsnips, and more, all at the ready for a grain or salad dish.

Just Hungry's posts on basic Japanese cookingtechniques. Somehow, the more I know about sushi rice, the more daunting making it becomes. These posts take the guesswork and mystique out of making sushi rice at home.

Zach and Clay over at The Bitten Word wrote a fantastic post about the Malaysian beef dish called Rendang, which I've always wanted to try. Theirs looks delicious, and the post is a testament to the juicy reward of a recipe that takes lots of time and hard work. Sometimes - and it looks like this was one of those times - the results are worth it.

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There's a great conversation over at Food52 about Control-Freak Eggs. Folks have weighed in with wonderfully anal-retentive suggestions, and I'm no exception. I'll be blogging about my OCD egg method - borrowed from the Momofuku masters, Peter Meehan and David Chang - soon.

Homemade butter has always intrigued me, so when I recently stumbled upon this piece by Daniel Patterson, I became determined to give it a go. Patterson is chef at the lovely Coi in SF (where I had the most phenomenal -- ok, the only -- heirloom chile consomme I've ever had), and if he loves this butter, I know I will, too. I've got out to buy nice cream from the farmers market. I'm planning to try my hand at making butter this week. I'll report back.

In the "recipes that aren't for everyone" department, this black sesame pear tea cake from Lottie and Doof has me tripping to replenish my black sesame seeds. If I do actually make butter at home, maybe I'll use the buttermilk left over for this cake.

Apparently I'm on a sesame kick, because I've been eyeing these Gilded Sesame Cookies from - sigh - Gourmet.

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Some of you may already know and love The Canal House. Christopher Hirsheimer and Melissa Hamilton cook beautiful food and put out books - roughly 3 a year, I think - that are somewhere between traditional cookbooks and quarterly magazines. They're beautiful, and worth checking out. In the meantime, get ye straight to their blog, Canal House Cooks Lunch, and feast your eyes.

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As some of you already know, before Passover kicked in, I was having a ball with my homemade sourdough starter. I made some of the best loaves I've ever baked, and one of them was this glorious chocolate sourdough bread from Clotilde. It's not an enriched bread - no butter, sugar, or eggs - so it's rich in flavor without feeling heavy or like dessert. Highly recommended.

Lastly, for those of you who are food bloggers and/or who have contemplated a career in food writing, Amanda Hesser wrote a must-read piece yesterday that's already gone pretty viral. It's frank, somewhat sad, but very true advice to those weighing the prospects for making money writing about food. Lord knows I've thought from time to time about whether this blog might become a larger part of how I spend my day and earn my paycheck. For now, I'm keeping my day job. If you've thought about this too, please: read Amanda's post. If you're skeptical of her conclusions, you can join the club - but I think her piece started a conversation that's been dormant for some time.

That's all for now. I'll be back soon with something delicious to share.

Carrot Kugel

Growing up, Passover was the holiday with all the rules. Among the "must"s were cleaning the whole house, covering the countertops, replacing the spices. Among the "mustn't"s: bread, muffins, pasta, cake, cookies. Seeing as how I practically subsisted on spaghetti as a kid - homemade tomato sauce was the first food I perfected - I positively dreaded the gluten-less days of Passover. I really wasn't into all the rules.

Ironically, though, as soon as the holiday arrived, my usual rules of eating went right out the window. Foods I'd never eat during the year, like matzo kugel and whitefish, suddenly seemed delicious. I couldn't get enough. I remember sitting at my parents' dining room table on the last day of Passover one year, nibbling on a matzo brei, thinking just how tasty it was, and realizing that in five hours, when the holiday ended, I'd never want to see matzo brie again. Funny how that works.

Terri, D's stepmom, also breaks some of her own rules on Passover. An exceedingly healthy eater year-round, she goes through an absurd amount of margarine on Passover. What can you do, she says. There isn't much to work with.

And she's right. My mother, a mindful and healthy cook, makes a passover carrot kugel recipe that essentially reads like one for chocolate chip cookies. Sub carrots for chocolate, and you'll have a carrot kugel that actually will make people swoon. On Passover.

Inspired by Passover's permit to break the rules of healthy year-round eating, I attempted a carrot kugel of my own this year. It's adapted from everyone's favorite sisterhood cookbook, "Second Helpings, Please" - because sisterhoods are the leading source of excellent kugel recipes, no? - and it's delicious, on Passover and year round. A couple of you requested this recipe, and while I'm sorry it's taken me so long to share it, hopefully it comes just in time for your Seder. Don't sweat the fact that it's terrible for you; that's sort of what Passover food is all about.

Looking for more Passover recipes?Here ya go.

Carrot Kugeladapted from Second Helpings, Please

1 cup matza cake meal (if making this not on Passover, please, please use flour here) 1/2 cup sugar 1/4 cup brown sugar 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon cloves 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger 1 teaspoon lemon juice 2 1/4 cups grated carrots 2 eggs 1/2 cup melted butter or canola oil

Preheat oven to 325 degrees and set a rack in the center of the oven.

Butter and flour an 8” square baking pan.

Combine dry ingredients in a large bowl.

In a smaller bowl, combine eggs, oil, lemon juice, and carrots.

Mix the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, and stir until the two are combined and no lumps of flour remain. Transfer batter into the prepared baking pan, and smooth the top with a spatula.

Bake for 45 minutes; when done, kugel should spring back when touched.

Serve warm or at room temperature.

Beets with Pistachio Sauce

Among the highlights of my big New York birthday was dinner at Lupa. I haven't been to Lupa in ages - not since right after college - and our meal back in February had me vowing not to wait so long before our next trip.

Lupa is a small spot. It's long and narrow, and waiters constantly are squeezing by your table and muttering polite "excuse me"s under their breath as they navigate the cramped quarters. Apparently, Lupa has grown tremendously popular over the past several years; I've heard from friends that even weeknights have long waits.

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Lucky for us, that Saturday night, we coasted straight to the back of the restaurant, tucked ourselves into a little table, and almost immediately got to work on a sampling of their verdure. That night, it was citrus-braised salsify that I've tried to recreate twice (good, not quite there); broccoli with burrata and chili; and beets coated in a smooth, green pistachio sauce, finished with a light vinaigrette. I took one bite, cooed, and started scheming about what it would take to get those beets on my home table.

Apparently, it wouldn't take much. A quick search online turned up a couple other folks who'd tried their hands at the recipe, so I didn't start from scratch. A couple nips and tweaks later, I had jewel-like beets, draped in silken pistachio, and as gorgeous to behold as they were delicious to eat. Quick, before asparagus and artichokes show up at the market, and weeks and weeks of nothing but beets become a faint memory: Make these beets.

Beets with Pistachio SauceInspired by a meal at Lupa

1 lb. beets, rinsed, greens removed 1/2 cup shelled pistachios 1/4 cup (4 tablespoons) water 2 tablespoons pistachio oil or olive oil 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar 4 tablespoons olive oil 1 teaspoon grainy mustard 1/2 teaspoon salt freshly cracked pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Wrap beets in foil and poke a couple holes in the foil with a fork or knife. Set wrapped beets on a baking sheet, transfer to the oven, and bake until tender, 1 to 1.5 hours, depending on size. Remove beets and let cool completely.

Meanwhile, make the pistachio sauce; in a food processor or blender, combine pistachios, 2 tablespoons pistachio or olive oil, and 3 tablespoons water. Blend until smooth, adding the remaining water if necessary; you want the pistachio sauce to be thick, but pourable. If you prefer the sauce very smooth, press through a medium-fine mesh strainer. I did this, and I think it's worth the extra effort.

Next, make the red wine vinaigrette: Combine red wine vinegar, olive oil, mustard, salt, and pepper, and whisk until thoroughly incorporated.

Peel the beets under running water; their skins should slide off easily. Cut the cooled beets into quarters or big chunks (depending on size), and toss with half the red wine vinaigrette, adding more to taste. Transfer to the serving platter, spoon the pistachio sauce over top, and serve.