The Morning After Savory Bread Pudding

Last night I hosted seven strangers for dinner in my home as part of a project for the Food and Performance class I am taking this semester. The menu had a distinct New Orleans flavor:

Sazeracs

Creole Fromage Fort, Mushroom Pâté, Olives & Cornichons

Asparagus & Ramp Remoulade

Duck, Oyster & Andouille Gumbo over Rice

 Vanilla Gelato Topped with Goat Milk Cajeta & Spicy Pralined Pecans

While it is going to take me a while to piece the evening together, I’m willing to call A Strange Dinner Party a success. The conversation flowed. Food and drink were consumed. Connections were discovered and forged. The highlight may have been after dessert when everyone pitched in to change a lightbulb–a task I don’t do when alone because it requires standing literally on top of the sticker on the ladder that says “Do Not Stand at or above this level. The Sazeracs and stimulating conversation left me so amped up that I managed to plow through nearly all of the dishes before collapsing into bed.

I woke up inexplicably early, having slept a sum total of 10 hours over the past two nights. Sleep deprivation and weekend cocktailing had me feeling a little worse for the wear. I needed a hearty breakfast to fortify me for this afternoon’s New York Abortion Access Fund Bowl-a-Thon. My bleary eyes scanned the kitchen and alit on the now stale bread that my guests had apparently refrained from using to soak up their gumbo.

Stale Bread

The Morning After Savory Bread Pudding

  1. Pour yourself a big glass of water and set the oven to 350.
  2. Grab those stale baguette slices and roughly cut them into 1″ chunks. Spread them on a baking sheet and pop them in the oven to toast until just turning golden.
  3. If you’ve got some leftover cooked veggies on hand, you’re almost home free. If, on the other hand, you polished off the last of the asparagus while doing the dishes last night, heat a cast iron skillet up to medium-low with a little olive oil. Add some sliced garlic (or onions or whatever) and a nice pinch of red pepper flakes. When the garlic starts to turn golden, add a big pile of broccoli rabe (or mushrooms or spinach or whatever vegetable(s) you have on hand). Season with salt and pepper and sauté until cooked through. If you happen to have a bunch of scallions you forgot to serve with last night’s gumbo, throw these in toward the end.
  4. Crack four eggs into a medium mixing bowl. Add a cup or so of milk or cream, salt, pepper and a pinch of two of nutmeg. Now stir in that cheese that you hastily packed up at the end of the night. This is a particularly nice way to recycle your already recycled fromage fort.
  5. Mix your toasted bread cubes in with the sautéed veggies and scoop this into a small baking dish. Pour the egg mixture over the top and pop your bread pudding in the oven.
  6. Cook until the eggs are set and the bread on top is nicely toasted–about 25 minutes, which should be ample time to fix yourself a much-needed cup of coffee. 

Savory Bread Pudding

Sweet Potato and Collard Hash

As any regular reader will have intuited, I have a deep and abiding affection for leafy greens–the darker, the better. The winter months can be rough for green lovers who live in northern climates, but hearty collard greens seem to fare well. They also hold up nicely in the refrigerator, unlike some of their more delicate relations.

Amazon and ChampagneCollards are a traditional New Year’s food throughout the American South. I rang in the new year with good friends and cuddly cats in Baltimore.

Taco FillingsThe 20 or so guests were no match for the truly insane variety of taco fixings that were on offer. Homemade corn tortillas swaddled red chicken mole, grilled gulf shrimp, carnitas, chorizo, mushroom and corn rajas, pickled cow’s tongue, refried beans, Coca-Cola braised beef, and black mole goat (not pictured, because it was simmering away in the crockpot). There was a whole other table of salsas, cheese, veggies and the like.

New Years Day FeastNew Year’s Day found us watching a trashy movie while dining on stuffed ham, black-eyed peas, and collard greens braised in coconut milk with some black cardamom I’d picked up at Union Market while passing through Washington, DC. I used this recipe from Serious Eats as a starting point for what turned out to be a damn tasty variation on a classic dish.

It is January 5th and I’m on a bit of a collard bender. Thursday morning, I poached an egg in some of the leftover greens before hopping a train back to NYC just ahead of a snowstorm. Friday I bundled up to check out the winter wonderland and get some more greens, which I sautéed with soy sausage. Yesterday I ate the collards braised with roasted delicata squash and red onion.

This morning I went with a hash that requires just one skillet and feeds one individual who stayed out a little too late, drank a little too much red wine, and spent more than she had intended in the live auction. (Luckily the proceeds benefit Just Food, an amazing organization that connects New Yorkers to fresh, locally grown food.)

Sweet Potato and Collard Hash

  • 1 ounce slab bacon, roughly diced
  • 1/2 large red onion, chopped
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 medium sweet potato, cubed
  • salt and pepper
  • 1 pinch chipotle powder (cayenne or even red pepper flakes would work too)
  • 2 cups destemmed collard greens cut into ribbons
  1. Bring a large cast iron skillet up to medium-low heat and add the bacon, stirring frequently until it begins to release its fat. Add the onion and continue stirring frequently until softened.
  2. Add the olive oil, sweet potatoes and 1/4 cup of water. Pop a lid on top and stir occasionally until the potatoes soften. Remove the lid and stir every few minutes, allowing the potatoes to brown. (Now is a good time to get your coffee going.)
  3. Add salt, pepper and chipotle powder. Stir the collards in, ensuring that they are coated in oil. Pop the lid back on and let them steam for a few minutes. Finish with the lid off, allowing any excess liquid to boil off.

Sweet Potato Collard Hash

EAT THIS: Squash and Ricotta Salata Frittata

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A squash, onion, garlic scape, basil and Ricotta Salata frittata with hot paprika is a lovely way to feed your sister/cat sitter and use up last week’s CSA share before hopping a bus headed south. Pack this week’s veggies in a shoebox and you’ve got a lovely hostess gift for your waiting friends.

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Summer Squash Frittata

Yesterday Leila and Rubina–roommates who are just as lovely as their names imply–hosted a brunchecue at Brooklyn Bridge Park.

Surveying my refrigerator while sipping my morning coffee, I determined to unload some of the three dozen eggs that I had amassed from my CSA. (They’re so good that I can’t resist getting an egg share but, even splitting it with a friend and neighbor, I still find the sheer quantity a bit daunting.) I was tempted to make deviled eggs, but transporting that many would be a challenge–particularly since I had to make a pit stop in Park Slope before heading to the brunchecue. I also had an abundance of summer squash, which I imagined would make for a lovely frittata. I was right.

Summer Squash, Scape and Basil Frittata

  • 3 medium summer squash (green, yellow or a mix), sliced into 1/4 inch disks
  • 4 garlic scapes (or some garlic or onions or whatever), thinly sliced
  • 1/4-1/3 cup olive oil
  • 1 dozen eggs
  • 30-40 basil leaves, chiffonaded 
  • 1 tablespoon hot paprika
  • salt and pepper
  1. Heat two tablespoons olive oil in a large cast iron skillet over medium heat. Add the scapes and sauté until the aroma of garlic makes you a little dizzy. Scoop the scapes onto a plate and add the first round of squash. Work in batches, flipping the squash disks once they start to brown. Add oil as needed and sprinkle each round with salt as they come out of the pan.
  2. Turn the burner down to medium-low and add a couple more tablespoons of olive oil. Preheat the oven to 425. Crack a dozen eggs into a large bowl. Add the paprika, salt and pepper and whisk thoroughly. Switching to a wooden spoon, gently mix the scapes, squash and basil into the eggs. If you want to get fancy about it, reserve your prettiest squash rounds and some whole basil leaves.
  3. If you’re aiming for a Martha-worthy flourish, arrange the reserved squash and basil in the bottom of your pan. Either way, gently pour the egg mixture into the pan, pressing any rogue squash pieces down. Let cook on the stove top for five minutes or so and then toss into the preheated oven.
  4. Your frittata is done when it has puffed up and the eggs have set. Pull it out of the oven and gently separate any edges that may have stuck with a heat-proof spatula or wooden spoon. When it’s cool enough to handle and you are satisfied that the frittata is no longer clinging to the pan, place a platter or cutting board on top and flip. If all goes well, the frittata should drop onto your serving dish. If not, just stick the pieces back together and call it brunch.

This is what your frittata will look like before it goes into the oven:Pre-Oven

And this is what it will look like when it comes out:Post-Oven

The fancified version should look something like this once it’s flipped:Summer Squash Frittata

The park’s new Picnic Peninsula features long tables fashioned of salvaged wood, umbrellas that make a valiant attempt to shade one from the relentless sun, Hibachi-style grills, and glorious views of Lower Manhattan. I arrived early with a serious appetite. Tragically, a plate of rice salad, sweet and sour chickpeas, kibbeh, and grilled chicken wings left me too stuffed to do more than sample a few bites of the endless stream of food that arrived along with old and new friends throughout the afternoon. Sundried tomato sausage from everyone’s favorite Brooklyn pork store, gazpacho, quinoa salad, fresh tomatoes with tofu and basil, cherries, beef strips rolled around cheese and bread crumbs, watermelon, vegan beer brats, vegetable kebabs, and homemade desserts were strewn across 30 feet of table.

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By 4:30, I had hit maximum sun capacity and decided to head up to Atlantic Avenue for shade, bathrooms, and a couple of cold beers before making the trek home. On the way out, I remembered to grab my now empty platter.

Garlic Scape and Happy Rich Omelette

A CSA share can be a bit daunting when your household numbers just one. Despite having had folks over for dinner Friday and Saturday, I had yet to plow through last week’s vegetables by the time Tuesday’s pickup rolled around. Digging through my crisper this morning (after a completely unnecessary trip to my local farmers market), I came upon some Happy Rich (aka broccolini) that was looking a bit worse for the wear. The leaves were mostly yellowed and the buds had opened into delicate white flowers. But the stalks were green and crisp, so game on.

  1. Bring a tablespoon of olive oil up to medium heat in a small nonstick skillet and add a garlic scape sliced into long, thin slivers. (Regular garlic would also work, but ’tis the season of the scape.) Add a pinch of red pepper flakes.
  2. When the scapes are softened and just starting to brown, add a cup or two (one small bunch) of roughly chopped Happy Rich, starting with the stems, which will take longer to cook. Pour a little water in to help them steam. I recommend aiming for an al dente texture. Stir in the flowers and leaves along with salt and black pepper. Turn the temperature down to medium low.
  3. Crack two eggs into a cup and mix gently with half an ounce or so of shredded cheese. (I used a youngish aged gouda to great effect.)
  4. Pour the egg mixture into the pan and stir briefly to ensure even distribution. Sprinkle a little more cheese on top. When the bottom seems to be firm, pop it under the broiler for a couple minutes to set the top.

This was crazy good. Now on to the bok choy, kale, kohlrabi, and Swiss chard that are still in the crisper!

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