A succotash of bacon, red onion, mustard greens and corn topped with a fried egg may prove helpful when last night’s dinner consisted of margaritas, olives and Sauvignon Blanc.
EAT THIS: Breakfast Succotash
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EAT THIS: Squash and Ricotta Salata Frittata
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.
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
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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:
And this is what it will look like when it comes out:
The fancified version should look something like this once it’s flipped:
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.
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.
- 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.
- 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.
- 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.)
- 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!
Ode to the Hard-Boiled Egg
When my baby brother was born in 1981, a family friend gifted me with Betty Crocker’s Cookbook for Kids. My mom recently shipped my tattered copy to me along with some cookbooks I needed for a research paper. I used to read it obsessively–particularly the recipes for eggs in bologna cups and a ghost cake with flaming eyes. But the only thing I can recall actually making is hard-boiled eggs. (My family’s diet skewed more toward lentil burgers and fruit juice-sweetened carrot cake.) To this day, I loosely follow the hard-boiled egg technique set forth in this book.
Perfect Hard-Boiled Eggs (Adapted from Betty Crocker’s Cookbook for Boys & Girls)
- While waiting for your morning coffee to brew, place your eggs into a pot, cover with water by at least one inch, and set over a burner turned to high.
- Allow eggs to boil for one minute – or until you begin to wonder what that rattling sound is. Remove the pot from the heat, add a lid, and let stand until you have finished your coffee (about 10 minutes).
- Drain and add ice water to bring the temperature down quickly, which will ward off the dreaded grayish green ring that sometimes forms on the outside of the yolk. (Betty Crocker claims that this also makes them easier to peel, but I’m not convinced. The only thing that seems to make a difference in my experience is to use old eggs. If I am planning deviled eggs, I will try to remember to buy the eggs a few weeks in advance and leave them in the back of the fridge.)
Quick, portable snacks that are rich in protein can be hard to come by. Sometimes, when I tire of raw almonds and spoonfuls of peanut butter, I make a big batch of hard-boiled eggs and snack on them throughout the week. They’re also great to have on hand for a quick weeknight salad.
Today I find myself unexpectedly working from home while recovering from an asthmatic condition brought on by tortellini fumes. (Don’t ask.) The weather is miserable, so I had resigned myself to making do with what food I had on hand. Egg salad is one of my comfort food fallbacks. Eggs will keep in the refrigerator pretty much forever and can be doctored up with whatever condiments and spices you have in your arsenal. Below was today’s working-from-home lunch. Consider it a jumping off point rather than a recipe.
Spanish-Style Egg Salad Sandwich with Frizzled Ramps
- Pour half a tablespoon of olive oil into a cast iron skillet over medium-low heat and add four ramps. (Scallions would work just fine here. Either way, see my tips for grilling ramps. And don’t worry if the green portions are dried out; these will add a nice crunchy counterpoint to your egg salad.)
- Combine 2/3 of a tablespoon of mayonaise, 2/3 of a tablespoon of very sharp mustard (though a basic Dijon will also suffice), a splash of sherry vinegar, 1/2 teaspoon of hot Spanish paprika, a tiny pinch of sugar, and salt and pepper to taste. Then stir in two diced hard-boiled eggs.
- When the ramps are nicely colored, slice a whole wheat pita in half and toast it right in your skillet.
- Assemble and enjoy, taking care not to drip onto your keyboard.
Is It Spring Yet?
Despite having lived in New York for more than two decades, I am newly disappointed each March to discover that it is still winter. School, work, and a chronic lack of sunshine conspired to make this past week quite challenging. By the time Friday rolled around, I was ready for some relaxation in the form of a specialty cocktail.
Is It Spring Yet?
- Add a shot (or more if you’ve had as rough week as I’ve had) of white rum and two to three times as much mango nectar to a rocks glass.
- Use a microplane or the fine holes of a cheese grater to grate some fresh ginger into your glass and give it a stir. (Your index finger works fine.)
- Pour some Prosecco or another dry sparkling wine on top, add a squeeze of lime, and plop in a large ice-cube.
This cocktail pairs beautifully with takeout Indian food and your sister and brother-in-law’s HBO on Demand while your nephew slumbers in the next room.
Is It Spring Yet goes down so easy that you might find yourself feeling less than stellar the next day. Fortunately, there’s a cure for that, and the ingredients can all be found at the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket – even in early March.
Not Yet Spring Breakfast
- Get your ass out of the house. Be sure to take gloves; it’s still cold. Seriously.
- Grab some coffee on the way to the farmers market. (If you failed to bring gloves, this will help.)
- Pick up some fresh Madura Farms shitaake mushrooms, an organic whole wheat sourdough miche from Bread Alone, a hunk of Cato Corner Farm Farmstead Cheeses’ Dairyere and, if you don’t have some stashed in the fridge, a shallot and some eggs.
- Head home, remove your pants. In that order.
- Add half a tablespoon of unsalted butter to a small skillet over medium heat. Once the foaming has subsided, add a finely minced shallot and sauté for a few minutes. Sprinkle a little thyme over the top and then add halved or quartered mushrooms. Stir occasionally, allowing your mushrooms to brown. At some point, add salt and pepper.
- Lay thin slices of cheese atop sliced bread and broil until bubbly and browned.
- Turn the heat under your pan down a tad, slide the mushrooms onto a plate, add a little more butter and fry an egg. A bit of water and a lid will help cook the white while preserving the runny yolk.
- Assemble the components as you see fit, grind a little pepper over the top, and enjoy.
French Lentil and Fried Egg Perfection
I spent Thanksgiving with my family in South Florida. My 92-year-old grandparents finally relocated this past spring to be near my mom. It was a treat to spend the holiday with them after more than 25 years. While there were only six of us for Thanksgiving dinner, I ended up making a total of 11 dishes in order to satisfy various constituencies–including the aforementioned nonagenarians and a 16-year old vegan. And that doesn’t include dessert!
Here’s my 92-year-old grandma keeping guard over her wing while the bird rests. I was particularly gratified that she liked the butternut squash and creamed kale gratin, which was a divergence from her usual fare.
I got home to Brooklyn late last night. While I wasn’t thrilled to return to winter, I welcomed the opportunity to cater to my own tastes in my own kitchen. Best of all, I was able to cobble together the ingredients for this comforting dish without having to put on pants.
French Lentils
- Render 2 ounces of bacon in a medium-sized, heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. (I highly recommend keeping some slab bacon in the freezer for such purposes.)
- Add some chopped onion. (I went with half of a large red onion that had been lingering in the fridge since before I left town.) Cook until onion is wilted and just starting to brown. (If your bacon is lean like mine and the bottom of the pan starts to get dark, add a half tablespoon of olive oil.)
- Add three small chopped carrots and saute until just beginning to soften. Then add four cups of water, a few cubes of frozen chicken stock (or some bouillon), and that last bit of red wine left over from your dinner party last weekend. Bring to a simmer and then add half a pound of French green lentils, a pinch of red pepper flakes and half a tablespoon of Herbes de Provence.
- Simmer until the lentils are soft and the broth has thickened a bit–roughly 45 minutes. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper. Add three small carrots chopped into very small cubes and cook for a few more minutes. Stir in a tablespoon or so of red wine vinegar to provide a little balance.
This makes a great bed for just about any protein. I cooked the first half of these lentils for a dinner party a few months ago and served them with pan-roasted Scottish salmon to great effect. Tonight I went with a fried egg. The rich, oozy yolk was a perfect marriage with the earthy lentils.
Baltimore Brunch (with Figs!)
While passing through Baltimore on vacation, I met a couple of lovely artists, David Page and Lauren Schott. Over a dinner that featured two kinds of bone marrow and necessitated a trip to the basement to use power tools, it came out that Lauren and David had three fig trees in their backyard and more figs that they could handle. Fueled by marrow and a good bit of wine, I invited myself and my Baltimore hosts Beth and Don to a fig picking brunch.
Two days later, we arrived bearing a basket.
Lauren explained how to identify the figs that were ready for picking (they’ve started to split at what I like to think of as the belly button) and we got to work.
This is about two-thirds of what we picked. And Lauren assured us that there would be just as many the next day.
Fig picking completed, we retired to the front porch, which has a distinctly Baltimore feel to it.
Lauren poured a round of bloody marys that she made using tomato “seconds” from the farmers market. They hit the spot.
Lauren and David’s two giant dogs stuck close to her as she prepped for our first course on a Weber grill in the front yard.
Grilled figs stuffed with blue cheese are good. A little freshly ground pepper makes them even better.
Eggs cooked inside of Canadian bacon cups and toasted peasant bread followed. Lauren did this all on the grill, using a cast iron muffin tin to cook the bacon and eggs. Cooking eggs for a crowd can be tough. (I frequently resort to a frittata or quiche, which can be prepared all at once and served hot or at room temperature.) I made a note of this technique.
When we had finished eating, David took me and Beth on a tour of his studio space and some of the pieces that he was working on for an upcoming show in Philadelphia. This mask is part of a head-to-toe suit that will be worn by a volunteer during the show. David was kind enough to humor us. It was dark in there.
I could have spent the rest of the day hanging out on Lauren and David’s front porch, but I imagine they had other things to do–and I had a train to catch–so off we went with our basket of figs.
Two weeks later, as I sat at my desk contemplating a mountain of work, a package arrived. Apparently Don had been busy. It contained jars of homemade fig pickles and fig barbecue sauce. The fig love continues.
Nothing Bacon Can’t Cure
Last night, I headed over to the boathouse for the Prospect Park Alliance Junior Committee’s Summer Soiree. I throw a lot of fundraisers for work, so it is truly a treat to be a guest.
No dinner and a few hours of open bar later, I found myself getting cozy with a bare air mattress in my friends’ living room. (They offered sheets, but that would have necessitated me getting up.) This morning I walked the hot and humid mile home in pajama pants, my dress bulging out of my gift bag.
I knew I had some nice slab bacon and CSA veggies at home, so I swung by the grocery store for eggs. I sliced about half an ounce of bacon into lardon and rendered these in a cast iron skillet over medium heat. I added a few big chunks of garlic and toasted these in the bacon fat. I coarsely chopped a bunch of chard and sautéed it in the pan before adding salt and pepper. I slid the wilted greens to the side and toasted half of a whole wheat flatbread right in the skillet. I made some scrambled eggs in another pot and threw it all together, adding half of a very ripe tomato.
This plus a latte and I was good to go.
Pretty in Pink Borscht
Last week’s CSA share included a handful of beets. I knew they would keep until this week, when I had a hunch I’d be getting some more. Sure enough, Tuesday brought another bunch–along with some of the crispest cucumbers I’ve ever tasted.
That very day, NPR reported that this is the hottest summer on record in the U.S. Roasting the beets was out of the question.
But cold borscht was not. I boiled my beets and eggs while preparing my morning coffee and a garlic, beet greens and egg scramble that I ate with a sliced fresh tomato–the first of the season! With the hot work completed early in the day, dinner preparation would really just be a matter of assembly.
Cold Borscht (serves about four)
- 2 bunches beets (greens reserved for a nice sauté)
- 2 Tbsp red wine vinegar
- 4 garlic cloves
- 1 large onion
- 3 cloves
- 2 whole allspice
- 1 bay leaf
- 1 tsp coriander seed
- ½ tsp fennel seeds
- 1 tsp pink peppercorns
- 1 tsp green peppercorns
- 1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes (or more if you like a little heat)
- 1 Tbsp sugar
- 2 tsp salt (and more to taste)
- 2 Tbsp prepared horseradish (or to taste)
Clean the beets by soaking them in water and scraping off any lingering dirt. (I recommend using the edge of a teaspoon; three days and a few showers later, I am still trying to dig dirt our from underneath my thumbnail .) Trim the tops, bottoms and any rogue hairy stuff. Add these along with everything above except the horseradish to a large pot, cover with water and bring to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook until your beets give easily when pierced with a fork (somewhere between one and two hours). Remove beets and strain liquid into a bowl using a chinoise or other fine mesh sieve. Once beets have cooled, slip peels off with your hands. Add all but one of the beets, reserved liquid and horseradish to the work bowl of your food processor and purée until smooth. You may need to add more water to get the desired consistency. Pour mixture back into the bowl and refrigerate for at least a few hours. (A full day would be fine.)
- ¼ cup crème fraiche, sour cream or plain yogurt
- Black pepper
- 1 cooked beet, diced
- 4 hard-boiled eggs
- 2 Tbsp minced dill plus more for garnish
- 1 large cucumber, peeled, seeded and diced
Whisk minced dill and crème fraiche, sour cream or plain yogurt into soup and season to taste with fresh-ground black pepper, salt and/or vinegar. Ladle soup into bowls, garnishing with halved eggs, beet and cucumber cubes and sprigs of dill.
It turned out that these were Chioggia beets, which were breathtakingly beautiful, though the dramatic stripes faded a bit during cooking and, ultimately, made for a borscht the color of Molly Ringwald’s prom dress at the end of Pretty in Pink. (Am I alone in having found that dress rather disappointing after all of the buildup?)
Still, it was damn tasty. I served it with a kale, sugar snap pea and pickled red onion salad and toasted pumpernickel bread topped with a crème fraiche spread and some killer smoked salmon that I’d picked up from Josephson’s Smokehouse in Astoria, Oregon. (Astoria is the town where Goonies was filmed, which makes for two ’80s movie references in a single blog post.)
An earthy rosé rounded out our feast, though I suppose that vodka would have been more traditional.
the drunken fig 