The Long Winter

My mom used to read me and my sisters the Little House on the Prairie books before we went to bed. The sixth book in the series is called The Long Winter; I think you can guess the premise. Laura Ingalls-Wilder recounts the winter of 1880 and 1881 during which time the small South Dakota settlement her family lived on was inundated with blizzard after blizzard from October until May. At one point the railroad stopped delivering shipments to the homesteaders (check out this photo taken in March 1881), putting them in real danger of starvation. Children stopped attending school because no one could get there. In the end, two men walked, probably in homemade snowshoes, 12 miles to find a cache of wheat to feed the village. I find it interesting to note that Laura's father knew a long winter was on its way because the muskrats were building nests with thick walls.

I'm reading a book right now called Out of This World by Mary Swander for a class. It's about a woman who lives near a large Amish community in Kalona, Iowa. The book follows a year in seasons, centered on planting, growing, harvesting and storing. I am more than a little inspired to be closer to the ground, like Swander and her Amish neighbors are. They have an intuition about the weather and the earth that does not exist in my life. I wake up to an alarm from my phone, not a rooster's call or the sun's movement (not that I'm complaining about that), I whine about shoveling my puny little driveway, and I carefully drive to work everyday. I'm barely outside at all--though I suppose Laura Ingalls didn't spend much time outdoors during the long winter. I'm just missing it right about now and longing to dig up some ground in a few months. My new career goal is to be an urban farmer.

All this is wholly unrelated to the egg casserole I made for the office "breakfast club" last Friday. I tweaked a recipe from Smitten Kitchen by adding pancetta and broccolini to her already fine egg strata. I wasn't sure how it would go at work with flavorings like nutmeg and Dijon mustard, but it was a winner--I didn't take any of it home with me. In fact, the crunchy broccolini and the smoky/salty pancetta were my favorite parts of this dish--one I had three helpings of. It was nice, too, to roll half-asleep out of bed, fire up the oven and bake something in the blue hours of morning. If I was Amish, these eggs would be from my henhouse, the bread would be home-baked and the vegetables straight from the garden ... maybe someday.

Egg strata, pre-cooked

My coffee resting on the roof of my car; it really was that blue that day.

Egg Casserole: from Smitten Kitchen

6 or 7 slices of bread

1 bunch broccolini
3 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup onion
3 ounces pancetta
1 cup spinach
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon nutmeg
3 ounces parmesan cheese
9 large eggs
2 3/4 cups milk
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

Grease a 9x13 pan or gratin dish really really well (really, it took a lot of muscle to clean that pan afterward). Pull apart the the bread into 1-inch cubes and arrange enough to just about cover the bottom of the pan. Set aside temporarily.

Coarsely chop the broccolini, pancetta and spinach. Finely chop the onion. Blanch the broccolini by placing it in boiling salted water for 4 minutes, drain and then run cold water over it to stop the cooking. Sprinkle the broccolini over the first layer of bread cubes.

In a skillet, melt the butter. Saute the pancetta for a few minutes before adding the onions. Saute for about 5 minutes, then add salt, pepper and nutmeg. Stir. Add the spinach, allowing it to wilt and then removing the pan from the heat. Pour the butter mixture over the first layer of bread. Grate your parmesan cheese over the pan. Smitten Kitchen also recommends using Gruyere cheese, but I didn't have any and it was more than fine. Pull apart the rest of the bread and arrange on the toppings.

In a mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk and Dijon. Once blended, pour over the of bread and toppings. Store in the fridge overnight (or bake right away). Preheat oven to 350 and bake for 45 to 55 minutes.

Straciatella Soup -- Egg Drop Italian-style

I don't know how I'm able to maintain it: Life has been so busy lately--but not rushed. We're in the thick of things at the magazine, plus going through a major revamp; I had two stories and a book due this week for the class I'm enrolled in; I volunteer; I'm trying to recruit players for the high school lacrosse team I coach, plus find a decent field on which to play games. Come Friday, I'm exhausted. But not stressed (for the most part).

I think I have to give God a bit of credit here. I've been more intentional about prayer and meditation since this series my church did on prayer late this summer (check out the mp3s of the sermons here--so. flipping. good.). Spending five to 10 minutes in quiet reflection before going to bed has a greater impact on a number of areas, but specifically I've noticed things. Noticed things like immature bald eagles (!) and ferringus hawks harassing birds in my office parking lot. Or leaves. I love leaves; they're like flowers except they smell bad. Or new songs. I received so many little gifts every day. And ohmygosh, this little girl just walked by saying/singing "I like to move it move it/I like to move it move it."

However, yesterday I got some big gifts. Meg and I went to Coco Key last night because it was free (!). Yeah, we waited in line for 20-plus minutes just to get in because they were over capacity, yeah, we got splashed in the hot tub, yeah, kids probably peed in there and I'm definitely going to get the Swine Flu now. But we went down the waterslides, in tandem, in the dark and laughed the ENTIRE way down each time.

At home, I pulled out the old standard, Giada's Family Dinners. There was only 15 minutes before The Office came on, so we didn't have much time. But I finished the straciatella soup in less time than it took for Megan to take a shower.

It seemed too simple. Chicken stock, eggs, herbs, spinach, parmesan. We took our bowls, bread and salad out to sit in front of the TV and watch Michael Scott make an arse of himself, while sipping down the kind of soup that clears your throat when you've got a cold. It was so salty and homey. The whole evening made me love the new apartment all the more and so thankful for the life I have. Just so thankful for all the moments, even the worst ones, but crazy, funny, quiet, soft instances.

Staciatella: from Giada's Family Dinners

6 cups chicken stock (or vegetable)
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons grated parmesan cheese
2 teaspoons dried basil or 2 tablespoons fresh
2 teapsoons dried parsley or 2 tablespoons fresh
2 cups spinach, torn into small pieces

Bring the stock to a boil and reduce to medium-low heat. In a separate, small bowl, whisk eggs, herbs and parmesan. With the stock on medium-low, stir while slowing pouring the egg mixture into it. Let eggs cook for a minute or two then stir in spinach. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

Alternative BLT

The beautiful thing about not being in school and thus a recipient of a summer holiday is that summer begins when you choose. I chose May 2, the date of my departure to Africa. Now that it's summer, I can do things like go to the Farmer's Market, do the Taco Ride and eat tomatoes. I know this tomato was grown in a greenhouse. I know. But I couldn't resist.

My original plan was to make an avocado-chicken dish using this tomato, but when I finally finished gardening at 8 p.m. I was ready to eat, stat. And whenever hunger takes ahold of me like that I make poached eggs and douse them with salt and pepper. This is a variation on the BLT that replaces bacon with eggs, the only thing better would be a BELT. The sandwich is super easy to make, the hardest part is eating it.

Egg-Lettuce-Tomato Sandwich

To poach an egg, heat about 2 cups of water in a skillet. Add to cracked eggs to the water before it is boiling, being careful not to break the yokes. The eggs should be about half submerged in water. Cover the skillet to allow the steam from the simmering water to cook the top of the eggs. I like my eggs over easy. To get perfect consistency, remove the eggs from the heat and the skillet once the bright yellow of the raw egg turns a foggy yellow color. This means that the thin layer of egg white on top of the yolk has been cooked.

To make the sandwich, toast bread and top with lettuce, tomato and poached egg. Finish off with salt, pepper and parmesan cheese.

Eric's Tikka Masala Mango Omelet

Here's why Megan and Eric are a great couple: Eric likes to cook and Megan likes to eat. I'll have backtrack and say that Megan does cook. But one of the best things about Megan is that she'll try anything and she almost always likes it. This is a great thing for me because I'll make something new that we all know isn't that good, but she always likes it. It's always great when someone declares your soup to be the best they've ever eaten in their entire life. Reason number two why Megan and Eric are great is that they are among the most hospitable people I know. They have always made me feel welcome, even when I'm the third wheel. I can remember the first meal Eric made that I ate. It was fish tacos with mango salsa a bunch of other good stuff that he threw together with the assistance of Megan. It was also my first introduction to Eric's roommates/med school friends. We sat at the table and discussed, in all seriousness, STDs. I found the conversation to be hilarious, but I think Eric's friends were embarassed later that the first time they met me they talked about the details of an ob/gyn rotation at the dinner table. If you can imagine our first conversation already going there, think of all subsequent conversations in Eric's living room sitting on his big, leather couch. If only the stories weren't too inappropriate to publish ... So I'll just tell one. Someone told me lately that they really appreciated Eric's quiet humor. I do too, though I think I'd describe his humor as unexpected. Back when we had our party in December, Eric showed up late after driving in from his rotation in western Nebraska somewhere. At some point in the evening, I used the word coif to describe a haircut. Eric didn't believe I was using the word correctly, so he got up and pulled my dictionary off my bookshelf to look it up. We subsequently got into a discussion about how, when I'm editing a story, people often use words that they think they know what they mean and how they should be used, but they really don't. Megan was in the room (and I can't remember exactly how this came about) but she got Eric to quiz her on random words from the dictionary. Eric would open a page and give Megan, Lindsey and me words to define from the dictionary AT OUR PARTY. I know what you're thinking, "what a lame party." But I thought it was hilarious. And I think you'd have to know how competitive Megan is to appreciate the situation. But who reads from a dictionary at a party? Yep, that's right, Eric. Eric sent me this photo yesterday and told me I could make up a blog. I may have just gotten a little carried away, and I didn't even talk about the omelet in the photo. I will say that Eric is an expert at throwing things together and having them turn out fantastic. Tikka Masala Mango Omelet: by Eric M. 3 eggs (2 yolks if you want your LDL to be 44 like Megan's) splash milk pinch salt two turns pepper quarter red pepper 1/2 clove garlic 3 tbsp onion minced avocado halved and sliced (only need a half) 4 cherry tomatos, halved 1/4 cup monterey jack, shredded 1 mango peeled and sliced and diced 1 loaf naan warmed 1/4 cup tikka masala sauce Saute diced pepper, onions and garlic in olive oil on high. Remove from heat, let pan cool. Turn heat to medium low. Mix eggs milk salt pepper but don't beat the eggs. Return pan to heat and cover sauted goodness with egg mixture. Add cheese, avocado, tomatos and 1/2 of tikka masala sauce to one half of omelet. Flip empty half of omelet over toppings when egg is cooked. Warm naan in the oven at 350 degrees. Plate half an omelet, garnish each with 1/2 of remaining masala. Serve with mango slices and 1/2 loaf naan. Open shades for sunlight. Brew strong coffee. Break bread. Enjoy. Serves 2.

Cinnamon Rolls

Now it's back to work after what I declare to be one of the best Christmases ever. I'm not exactly sure what made it so spectacular. The gifts were great (my mom made me an apron out of two dish towels from Anthropologie!), but they're always good. I think it may have more to do with maturity on my part. It seemed like for the first time Christmas was really all about relaxing and being with friends and family. These awesome cinnamon rolls didn't hurt though.

It's a Seyler family tradition to have cinnamon rolls for breakfast on Christmas morning, post present destruction. My mom has a bread machine that she probably uses once or twice a year, but one of those times is to toss flour, yeast, butter, etc. into the machine, turn it on, go back to bed whilst the bread wizard mixes the dough. She lets the rolls rise in the laundry room as we labor over opening gifts. Rough morning eh? This year the cinnamon rolls turned out (by miracle) robust and savory. And look at the above photo: White Christmas.

Dad even got in on the action. Blog readers may not be surprised that he was assigned the task to fry the bacon. I usually shy away from eating bacon, but dad makes it right. The first one I tried was so well-done and crispy it disintigrated in my mouth. I even snapped a photo of my dad ... in an apron, looking annoyed. "Lainey, it's just bacon."

Some family friends came over for breakfast (as their kitchen is under renovation). They supplied a ridiculous amount of farm fresh eggs. And Emily went to town on them. Her trick is to add fresh, chopped or minced garlic to scrambled eggs. Don't be alarmed by her wrist brace--it's just jammed (not broken) and has been for like two months now (I tease). Cinnamon Rolls: Dough: 1 cup water 2 eggs 1/4 cup butter 4 cups flour 2 teaspoon salt 1/2 cup sugar 3 tablespoons skim milk powder ( it’s amazing the volume you have to buy) 2 teaspoons quick-rise or bread machine yeast Filling: 3 tablespoons butter 2/3 cup brown sugar 2 teaspoons cinnamon optional: 1/3 cup raisins or chopped pecans (my family hates nuts in things, minus my mom and me Icing: 1/2 stick butter 1 teaspoon vanilla 2 or 3 tablespoons milk 2 cups powdered sugar (or until you reach desired consistency) (I believe my mom adapted this recipe for those of us who may not own a bread machine.) Add dough ingredients in the order listed. Mix together, knead and allow to rise in a warm place for 60 min. Then roll out into a rectangle (see photo 3). For filling, melt 3 tablespoons butter and brush over dough. Mix together brown sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl and sprinkle over dough. Roll up and pinch edges together (see top photo). Cut into 12 slices and place in greased dish or in muffin cups. Cover and let rise a second time for 30-40 minutes. Bake at 375 for 20 minutes. The recipe says you can freeze 1/2 of the dough to use at a later time. I have never tried that. Why not just eat it all? Here comes the part of the recipe I took care, and thus didn't measure anything, crap.) For the icing, in a medium mixing bowl add softened butter, milk and vanilla and mix together. Add the powdered sugar 1/2 cup at a time and mix until smooth. Continue adding powdered sugar until the icing is at your preferred consistency.

Eggs Over Easy

My all-time comfort food is the egg. And since I usually only have myself to cook for, I can eat them whenever I want. When I was younger, I only liked scrambled and variations of (i.e. scrambled eggs with cheese, scrambled eggs with ham, scrambled eggs with ham and cheese and omelets). Thankfully, I went to Spain with an open mind. My Spanish mother made Myra and me eggs fried completely submerged in olive oil cooked over easy. Now I can't get enough of them (note: I cook eggs in water, not olive oil. Let's be honest, I got pretty chubby in Spain. I'd like to be able to walk up stairs without getting winded, OK). But here is why j' adore le egg (les oeufs):

See that creamy, yellow goodness running all over the toast? I like to dunk my toast in the buttery yolk and wipe my plate clean.

Granted, eggs are relatively easy to make. My 15-year-old sister (Happy Birthday Em) has been making them for years. So last night, I thought I'd change things up and make a poached egg. Poached eggs are cooked by submerging the egg in near-boiling water. If done perfectly, the egg comes out of the water looking round and white (kind of like what the egg would look like if it was back in its shell). As you can see above, mine did not look like that. However, after google-imaging "perfect poached eggs," I didn't really do so bad. I followed this recipe to the T. My only panic moment happened when the water fogged up all of a sudden and I couldn't see the egg. I was blindly fishing around for it hoping not to break the yolk.

It all turned out, but I think I'll continue to poach my eggs the way Meghan taught me: only half submerged in boiling water, with the lid on so that the steam also cooks the egg. At least that way I can see what's going on.

You Say Frittata.

Instead of letting my leftovers waste away to mold in the fridge like I normally do, I rehashed them in a frittata. This was according to Craig's recommendation. Dare I say that it was better than the original version as the original batch of green curry was so freaking spicy. Adding eggs and milk tempered the heat to edible.

I have this theory about eggs and omelets: Every European country seems to have their own delicious version. Everybody like eggs. In France its quiche. In Spain its tortilla espanola. In Britain it must be the omelet. And in Italy its the frittata. (OK, I haven't covered all of Europe, just the countries I have been to). I'd have to say that the frittata is the easiest because there is no flipping involved (reducing the chance that I'll be making a mess). You just mix the eggs and a bit of milk with whatever other food you'd like to add (obviously anything goes since I felt so inclined to make it with green curry), cook it on the stovetop until the bottom is done and then transfer it to the broiler to finish it off. And voila. Finito.

This Is Not What Hollandaise Sauce Looks Like.

I find it very fitting that my first cooking attempt for my first blog was a complete disaster. Typical.

Plotting out my culinary endeavors at the end of the work day, I felt invincible and went straight for hollandaise, perfect to go with an eggs-benedict-style sandwich. I have never attempted this one of the five "mother sauces." I, admittedly, am not much good at any sort of emulsifying--I never know when the sauce has thickened and always get ahead of myself.

The process started out well. I only lost one of the four yolks down the sink. We were out of lemon juice ... but we had lime. Step one, wisking egg yolks with lemon (lime) juice, went well. I converted the mixing bowl and pot of water into a double boiler and finished off with the butter. Shockingly simple. I moved the "double boiler" to another burner and grabbed the cayenne pepper and salt. Salt we had. Cayenne we most certainly did not. I surveyed the other spices that start with C: coriander, chili, cumin, curry. Chili and coriander sounded and smelled promising, but I recalled an alternative suggested on an Emeril recipe: hot sauce. So I threw the salt and a couple drops of Louisiana hot sauce into the mix. It passed the initial taste test.

I turned away to work on broiling an egg. When I looked back the sauce had gone scrambled. Rookie mistake: I had left the sauce sitting on top of the hot water. I guess it really is as testy as they say. It was completely unsalvagable. It didn't end there. One broiled egg came out close to perfection. The next broke in the pan. I scorched two pieces of toast (I know, who burns toast?). And the next pieces of toast were burned on one side. (We really should get a toaster, so I don't have to toast bread in the oven). Well, I'm off to an interesting start.