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ОглавлениеBread and Break fast
All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast.
—John Gunther
Feel-Good Fare to Jump-Start His Heart
HE LOVES…
Baeon and eggs. There are few sights that appeal to me more than the streaks of lean and fat in good side bacon…. Nothing is quite as intoxicating as the smell of bacon frying in the morning, save perhaps for the smell of coffee brewing.—James Beard, Beard on Food
Pancakes and sausage. That's it.—Charles, Arizona
Figs and buttery mascarpone cheese with some honey and pistachio nuts. This is something you will want to try.—Terry, Italy
A soft-boiled egg and a croissant, half a grapefruit, and a café au lait in a cup the size of a cereal bowl.—Michael, New York and Florida
Crab cakes Benedict, Dutch pancakes, sourdough bread, and bananas with honey and cream.—Karl, California
The Real Way to Rise and Shine
Even with the onslaught of protein shakes and high-powered breakfast bars, Wheaties™ has defended its tide, the “Breakfast of Champions,” brilliantly for nearly a century. If we believe what the all-stars on the Wheaties boxes tell us, we are on our way to a win-win, grand-slam day every time we fill our bowls with these golden flakes. Life is the prize, so eat your Wheaties and carpe diem!
But if it is the moment rather than the entire day you wish to seize—let's say you're in a robust mood and want to start your day with a little hanky-panky—leave your cereal bowl empty and your jock strap off. The time is right to fire up with the newly scientifically proven “breakfast of lovers”—the cinnamon roll!
That's right. In one study by sex researchers, the penile blood flow of thirty-one healthy male subjects was measured when they whiffed a range of fragrances from perfume to roses to suntan oil to black licorice. Every odor boosted the flow from one level to another, but some fragrances hit the jackpot, so to speak. Among the supererotic turn-ons were the aromas of pumpkin pie, lavender, and doughnuts. Let it be known, however, that the supreme seductress of all smells proved to be that of the sexy, spice-laced cinnamon roll. And you thought you needed a protein shake….
Sensuous Cinnamon Rolls
The Dough
3 cups unbleached flour
1½ tablespoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon ground cardamom
½ cup (1 stick) cold, unsalted butter
1 cup warm milk
Glaze
2 cups powdered sugar
1 tablespoon orange
2 tablespoons milk
Filling
1 cup raisins
1 to 2 teaspoons orange zest
2 tablespoons rum
1 cup raw sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ cup melted butter
1 cup shelled pecans, coarsely chopped
To make the dough, combine flour, baking powder, salt, and cardamom in a large bowl; blend well. Cut the cold butter into the flour mixture with a pastry blender or fork until mixture becomes granular. Add the milk and stir with a fork until a soft dough forms.
Turn the dough out on a lightly floured surface, knead 10 to 12 times, and pat into a rectangle. Wrap and refrigerate while you prepare the filling.
To prepare the filling, soak the raisins and orange zest in rum. In a separate bowl, combine the two kinds of sugars, milk, and spices. Prepare two 8-inch round pans (or one 9 × 13-inch rectangular pan) by brushing the bottom with some of the melted butter, and sprinkle enough sugar mixture on the bottom of each pan to cover the surface evenly (about ¼ cup for each). Reserve the rest of the sugar mixture.
Preheat the oven to 400°F. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough into a large ¼-inch thick, 12 × 18-inch rectangle, with the “long” side near you.
Brush the dough with the remaining melted butter and sprinkle the remaining sugar mixture evenly over the dough, followed by the raisin mixture and pecans. Starting with the longer edge, loosely roll the dough toward you, “jelly roll” style. Using a very sharp knife cut the dough into 1 to 1¼-inch slices and place them in the pan spiral side up and slightly apart.
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the rolls are golden brown. While the rolls are baking, make the glaze by combining all ingredients in a small bowl. When the cinnamon rolls are hot out of the oven, invert the pan immediately onto a serving tray. Drizzle glaze over them and indulge! Makes 14 to 16 sinfully delicious cinnamon rolls.
Knowing you is such delicious torment.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Life Is Fine with the Cinnamon Girl
Scientists may have discovered what the sweet smell of cinnamon does to increase a man's virility and blood flow, but have they given us a good reason why? As, a kitchen courtesan, I say the answer is simple: Cinnamon is an aphrodisiac.
Myth holds that Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, could harness the alchemical powers of her insignia spice at will, delivering its wallop on unsuspecting mortal men whenever she needed a little adoration. “Cinnamon Girl” simply sprinkled it on their food. After she won the coveted Golden Apple at the Judgment of Paris—the infamous beauty pageant of the great goddesses that incited the Trojan War—that noble fruit (now the naughty orb of temptation) also fell under her command. With apples in one basket and mounds of cinnamon in the other, no man was above the call of Aphrodite.
Are you a believer? If the Sensuous Cinnamon Rolls didn't increase your pulse this morning, the French Stud Muffins will. They are laced with the two vital aphrodisiacal ingredients, they are delightful to eat in bed…and they're French. Mais oui!
An aphrodisiac is anything you think it is.
—Dr. Ruth Westheimer
French Stud Muffins
Muffins
4½ cups unbleached flour
1¾ cups sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
¾ teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon ground nutmeg
1½ cups milk
3 eggs
1 cup margarine, melted
1 cup apples, peeled, and finely chopped or grated
Topping
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon cinnamon
3 tablespoons melted butter
Preheat oven to 350°F. Mix all dry ingredients listed under “Muffins” together by hand, forming a “well” in the center of a large bowl. Whisk together the milk and eggs in a separate bowl and then pour them into the dry mixture. Mix gently, dribbling the melted margarine into the equation as you go, until all ingredients come together. (To avoid tough, cone-headed muffins, do not overmix.) Gently fold in the apples.
Scoop dough into a muffin tin lined with paper cups, filling the cups to the top. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.
While muffins are baking, prepare the topping by mixing together the sugar and cinnamon. Immediately after taking the muffins out of the oven, brush the tops with melted butter and shake a storm of cinnamon-sugar on top. Makes a bountiful 13 (baker's dozen) aphrodisiacs disguised as muffins; prepare for the effects.
A Marriage Made with Banana Bread?
In his book The White House Family Cookbook, White House executive chef and author Henry Haller entertains with recipes and tales of presidential palatal preferences and favorite foods of first families, all woven together with Americana food lore and good inside dish, like what favorite fare Ronnie Reagan had delivered to the hospital when he was recovering from his gunshot wound (I'll tell you later in the book…).
The sweetest story is that of David and Julie Nixon Eisenhower. Later to marry, they first met as eight-year-olds. David, Ike's young son, was a hearty eater who loved banana bread. Since Mrs. Nixon adored bananas, her first daughter, Julie, also grew up with banana bread as a Number One favorite. Same White House, same chef, same recipe. It was “very, very, very, very good,” David once wrote in a thank-you note to the chef. I bet this very, very good banana bread will put stars in any man's eyes.
Kissin' don't last; cookery do!
—George Meredith
Bet On It Banana Bread
A favorite of the Eisenhowers
4 cups unbleached flour
2 cups brown sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
4 eggs
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
⅔ cup buttermilk
1 cup margarine, melted
4 large, very ripe bananas, mashed
2 cups of your favorite nuts, chopped (optional)
Additional brown sugar and chopped nuts (optional)
Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour two 8 × 4-inch loaf pans. (If you prefer muffins, line tin with muffin cups.) Combine flour, brown sugar, salt, and baking soda in a large bowl. Make a well in the center.
In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, vanilla, and buttermilk. Pour into the dry mixture and blend slightly, always by hand with a wooden spoon. Add the melted margarine and mix a bit more. Finally, add mashed bananas and, if using, nuts. Mix gently until ingredients are blended (do not overmix). Spoon batter into the prepared pans and sprinkle the top with additional brown sugar and nuts, if desired.
Bake for 45 to 55 minutes (20 to 25 minutes for muffins). To check if the muffins are done, insert a toothpick; if it comes out clean, the bread is done. Note the baking time for the future. Turn out to cool. Slice and serve with butter. Makes 2 loaves or 14 muffins.
Stirring It Up with the Big Boys
What does a celebrated New York, chef and author do when he's not overseeing his culinary creations at one of the grandest establishments in New York City? Does he hobnob with fellow wizards talking foie gras and quattro formaggi while sipping fine wine and swapping tales of gastronomic escapades in Paris, Saint-Père-sous-Vezelay, and Brussels?
Daniel Orr, Executive Chef at New York's Guastavino's, author of Real Food, and former cuisine king at La Grenouille, bakes his grandmother's biscuits. ‘Tis true; for occasional weekend brunches and holiday breakfasts, he rolls up his sleeves, puts on his apron, and pays tribute to Gramma Orr.
Ever since I discovered that Chef Orr developed his childhood taste buds in the culinary training ground of Indiana (as did I), I've been a fan. I love that someone from the land of meatloaf and coleslaw has been transformed into such a fine, respected chef. He was surely inspired back in the Hoosier state by some of the best buttermilk biscuits you'll ever taste, thanks to his grandma.
Simple pleasures are essential pleasures,restorative, necessary to survival.
—Jacqueline Deval, Reckless Appetites
Gramma Orr's Buttermilk Biscuits
2 cups unbleached white flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 generous teaspoon sugar
½ cup (1 stick) cold unsalted butter
¾ to 1 cup cold buttermilk
Preheat the oven to 450°F. In a medium bowl, thoroughly combine the dry ingredients. Cut in the cold butter with a sharp pastry cutter, leaving some large pea-sized pieces among the other cornmeal-sized pieces.
Add the buttermilk and toss to combine (do not overmix or they will become tough and dry!); form a ball. Knead the dough lightly, pat it out to a ¾-inch thickness, and cut with a biscuit cutter. Bake biscuits on an ungreased baking sheet at 450°F for 2 to 3 minutes, reduce heart to 350°F, and bake for another 8 to 9 minutes. Makes a dozen or so grandma-style biscuits.
THE INSIDE LINE
At Guastavino's, Chef Orr transforms his grandma's biscuits into a fabuous dessert. He simply brushes them with buttermilk and sprinkles raw sugar and sweet spices on them before baking. They are served sliced and topped with local Tri-Star strawberries, crème fraîche, and a little chopped mint.
Flipped Out for a Johnny Cake
The first colonists in America were simply smitten with the newly discovered Indian crop called “corn.” England had its porridges, puddings, and muffins, but Old World tables had never known the likes of such rustic, soulful creations as stone-ground cornmeal being flipped, fried, and cooked in the New World.
To founding father Benjamin Franklin, cornmeal in any of its incarnations was soul food. In fact, during a visit to London in 1768 to plead the case for the colonies, he begged his daughter to send him the foods for which he was homesick, among them cornmeal. Ben would give cooking classes to the Englishwomen, enthusiastically teaching them how to make cornbread or flip an Indian slapjack. When he and the colonists were publicly jeered by a London Gazette journalist for eating food that could never afford “an agreeable breakfast,” ol' Ben planted the seeds of separatism by boldly rebutting, “Permit me, an American, to inform the British gentleman, who seems ignorant of the matter…that our johnny cake or hoe cake, hot from the fire, is better than a Yorkshire muffin.” Any day.
Spread some warm, melting butter and Barbara's Jalapeño Jelly on his beloved corn bread, and loyal Ben would have been talking revolution.
The destiny of a nation depends upon how and what they eat.
—Brillat-Savarin
Johnny Cake Corn Bread
Benjamin Franklin's favorite
1½ cups stone-ground cornmeal
1 cup unbleached flour
¼ cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 eggs
1 cup sour cream
½ cup milk
¼ cup margarine or butter, melted
⅔ cup creamed corn (or freshly cooked corn from the kernel)
Preheat oven to 400°F. In a large bowl and by hand, combine the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs, sour cream, and milk. Pour this mixture into the dry mix and stir gently. Pour in the melted margarine and mix slightly. Fold in the creamed corn.
Pour the batter into a 10-inch, greased cast iron skillet. Bake for approximately 20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. (You can also cook this batter “pancake style” in a stove top skillet to make authentic corn johnny cakes; cook each side of the johnny cake for a minute or two.) Makes 6 to 8 servings.
Barbara's Jalapeño Jelly
One 3½-ounce can jalapeño peppers
1 large bell pepper, seeded and sliced
One 4-ounce can chiles
1 cup white vinegar
6 cups white sugar
One 6-ounce package Certo™ pectin (use both pouches)
In a blender, blend together on high speed the two kinds of peppers, chiles, and vinegar. In a large saucepan over medium heat, combine the pepper blend with the sugar and stir until the sugar completely dissolves. Add the Certo pectin and bring to a rolling boil. Boil for 3 minutes, stirring constantly.
To preserve, pour the jelly into hot, sterilized jars and top with canning lids sealed with bands (see the Inside Line below). Store in a cool area and refrigerate after opening. Makes 6 half-pint jars of Barbara's zesty jelly.
THE INSIDE LINE
You skipped home ec class In high school? Here's a quick canning lesson from James Villas' The Town and Country Cookbook:
Unscrew ring bands from canning jars, remove lids; arrange jars in a large pot, and cover with water. Bring water to a boil, cover, and sterilize jars for 10 minutes. Remove jars from the water with clean tongs and pack (with Barbara's Jalapeño Jelly], taking care not to touch the insides of the [sterilized] jars. Wipe rims clean with paper towels. [Using the tongs] dip the sealing lids into the hot water used for sterilizing jars, [place lids on top of the filled jars] and screw ring bands on tightly.
Place the jars in a draft-free area until the lids “ping” and remain down when pushed with a finger [signs they are sterile].
Do not fret if the lid doesn't do its “ping thing” and remains convex; just store in the refrigerator and enjoy!
AND ALL THE PRESIDENTS' PANCAKES
Pancakes, a true American tradition, have made their mark throughout history. Thomas Jefferson was so smitten with his griddlecakes that accompanied his fried apples and bacon and eggs that he brought his governess to the White House from Monticello mainly because she had a magic touch at flipping the cakes.
President Andrew Jackson was partial to buckwheat-cornmeal flapjacks; Franklin D. Roosevelt swore by hot, buttered maple syrup on plain, fluffy pancakes; and Ike loved cornmeal johnny cakes smothered in light molasses. Even spendthrift Calvin Coolidge caught on to the power of the pancake and traditionally had low-cost buckwheat breakfast cakes served at morning meetings.
Mining for a Silver-Dollar Breakfast
Before Sam Clemens became Mark Twain, he was a cub reporter in the mining town of Virginia City, Nevada, writing for the local newspaper under the nom de plume “Josh.”
In his own words, Josh tells us what a real breakfast meant to him: “A mighty porterhouse steak an inch and a half thick, hot and sputtering from the grill; dusted with fragrant pepper; enriched with little melting bits of butter…archipelagoed with mushrooms…and a great cup of American homemade coffee…some smoking hot biscuits, and a plate of hot buckwheat [pan] cakes, with transparent syrup.…”
After the sun rose over the High Sierra, the young Mark Twain would head off to work and proceed to weave wonder-words with his trusty typewriter. His editor's only instructions were, “Write so damned well the miners will read the Enterprise before they drink their liquor, court their women, or dig their gold.” Which he did…after he ate his bonanza in pancakes.
Silver Dollar Slapjacks with Wild Blue Sauce
A favoritc of Mark Twain
Slapjacks
1 cup buttermilk
¼ cup milk
1 large egg, room temperature
2 tablespoons butter, melted, or canola oil
1 cup unbleached white flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
Nonstick canola oil cooking spray
Wild Blue Sauce
1½ cups fresh wild blueberries (cultivated or frozen berries will do in a pinch)
⅓ cup brown sugar
2 to 3 tablespoons lemon juice, freshly squeezed (no substitutes)
½ teaspoon crystallized ginger, finely chopped
Dash of ground nutmeg
Get the sauce going first. To make the blueberry sauce, combine all listed ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a slow, bubbly boil over medium heat. Reduce heat to low and simmer for about 5 minutes, until the sauce begins to thicken and its sweet aroma fills the air.
To make the pancake batter, whisk together in a large bowl the buttermilk, milk, egg, and melted butter. In a separate, smaller bowl or measuring cup, blend together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Gently tap the dry ingredients into the buttermilk mixture and stir it up.
While the Wild Blue Sauce is gurgling, lightly spray or grease a griddle or nonstick skillet and heat it over medium-high heat. Ladle small 3-inch pools of batter onto the hot griddle. Cook the silver dollars for about one minute until teeny bubbles come to the surface, gently flip them, and cook for another 30 seconds.
To make a great impression, serve 3 stacks of 3 silver dollar pancakes on an extra large plate and top them with an eruption of the hot Wild Blue Sauce. Makes 16 to 18 pancakes.
Get your facts first, and then you candistort them as much as you please.
—Mark Twain
Treat That Poor Knight Like a King
Before French toast elevated its social status and fund its way onto upscale breakfast tables, it kept shady company on the edge of antiquity's kitchen. In the dank, dark days of England's Middle Ages, when poor knights and foot soldiers were out defending their king's lands and castle, they subsisted on stale slices of bread dipped in wine and soured milk and fried over a fire. The dish was aptly nicknamed “Poor Knights of Windsor.”
Over in France, this same fare was (and still is) the classic pain perdu, or “lost bread,” made exclusively with leftover bread from the baker's day off—bread that would normally be “lost” to the birds and dogs. Add a few eggs, sweet spices, rich milk…voilà! Men came to love it.
Whenever I want a man to feel regal, I cook up this remarkable, revamped version of Portuguese Toast with peachy Love Sauce from my book Goddess in the Kitchen and allow him the fantasy of being king of the world.
King Toast with Queen Peach Sause
4 large firm peaches or 8 apricots, peeled, pitted, sliced
¾ to 1 cup pure maple syrup
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg, divided
1 round loaf King's Hawaiian Bread™
4 eggs
1 cup half-and-half or milk
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Butter for frying
Place the fruit in a medium-sized saucepan, add maple syrup, and sprinkle ½ teaspoon nutmeg over everything. Cover and bring to a boil over medium-low heat. Once the syrup begins to boil, turn off the heat, but leave the saucepan on the burner to keep the nectar warm.
In the meanwhile, slice the loaf of bread in half, then cut 1-inch thick slices of bread of varied sizes from those halves (a loaf of King's provides 12 hefty slices). In a shallow bowl, whisk together the eggs, half-and-half or milk, cinnamon, vanilla, and remaining nutmeg.
Melt a dollop of butter in a skillet or on a griddle over medium-high heat. Dip both sides of the bread quickly in the egg mixture and fry for 2 to 3 minutes until golden brown; flip and fry the other side.
While the toast is frying, transfer the Queen Peach Sauce into a decorative bowl or gravy boat with a ladle. Serve toast on warmed plates. Makes 4 servings.
THE INSIDE LINE
Feel free to substitute thawed frozen fruit or unsweetened canned fruit (drained) in place of the fresh; you will need about 2 cups of sliced peaches or apricots. Also, if there is no King's Hawaiian Bread on your local store shelves, substitute sweet French or Portuguese bread.
You Can't Waffle on Character
If I were entertaining anyone of stature—a great chef, celebrity, luminary, politician, friend, or the Wizard of Oz himself—I would invite him to breakfast and enchant him with a huge plate of waffles with warm maple syrup, fresh fruit, cinnamon, sour cream, and sweet butter.
I say you can tell a man's character by his reaction to this crisp, forthright hot cake. I've discovered a “waffle man” is generally unpretentious, wholesome, hearty, fun-loving, and honest.
Alton Brown, the celebrity chef on the Food Network's television show Good Eats, says one of his favorite things to cook is “waffles—anytime, day or night.” A waffle man. When Thomas Jefferson visited Holland, he brought back a “woffle” iron so he could enjoy them at Monticello. A waffle man. President Gerald Ford, bless his heart—a waffle man.
So all of you waffle men out there, heat your irons, and cook up a great waffle.
You can tell a lot about a fellow's characterby his way of eating jellybeans.
—Ronald Reagan
Norwegian Belgian Waffles
2 cups milk
2 cups rolled oats (old-fashioned or quick)
2 large eggs, separated, at room temperature
2 tablespoons brown sugar or honey
2 tablespoons applesauce
2 tablespoons soft butter
½ cup whole wheat flour
½ cup unbleached white flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
Grease and preheat a Belgian waffle iron (a regular waffle iron also works perfectly). Either scald the milk in a saucepan over low heat and mix in the oats, or combine the oats and milk in a large bowl and microwave on HIGH for 3 to 4 minutes. Whisk in the egg yolks, brown sugar or honey, applesauce, and butter.
Beat the egg whites until a soft peak forms; set aside. In a small bowl (or right in the measuring cup to save time), blend together the two kinds of flours, baking powder, and salt. Tap the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients, stir, and then gently fold in the egg whites.
Ladle the batter into the waffle iron and bake until the indicator light tells you the waffles are done. Lavish with all the adornments—sweet butter, maple syrup, and/or fresh berries—and serve. Makes 8 medium waffles, depending on the size of your iron.
Duel of the Gruel
The most enduring legacy of America's Civil War has very little to do with ideologies of freedom and unity. No, its aftereffect is more pervasive than that: Draw the line between the Yankee North and Rebel South, get out your breakfast bowls, and prepare to duel!
You tell me where you live, and I'll tell you what you eat. If your bowls were filled north of the Mason-Dixon line—Minnesota, Pennsylvania, Ohio—you grew up on the sacred grains of Cream of Wheat™. But if you hail anywhere south of the hills of Tennessee, you are a true grit gent through and through.
Arm your bowls and take up your spoons, gendemen, and prepare to choose a winning recipe. I'm fairly certain if y'all whipped up a batch of Yankee Cream of Wheat and top it with a whopping dollop of vanilla Häagen-Dazs™, all your southern taste buds would be seduced and conquered. However, up against this fantastic grit recipe, it might be a draw.
I will ride a few hundred miles before breakfast just to be at a truck stop that serves grits. Try them; you may find your motorcycle tends to head south in the morning.
—Biker Billy, Biker Billy Cooks with Fire
Falls Mill Uptown Cheese Grits
1 cup Falls Mill™ stone-ground grits
4 cups water, divided
¼ cup onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons instant chicken bouillon
¼ cup half-and-half
2 to 4 ounces of Havarti cheese, coarsely grated
Place grits in a bowl and cover with 2 cups of water. Stir the grits so that light bran and chaff will rise to the top. Skim this off and set aside.
Bring 2 cups of water, the onion, butter, and instant chicken bouillon to a boil in a heavy-bottomed saucepan.
Pour the water and remaining chaff and bran off the grits in the bowl that was set aside and add them to the boiling mixture. Reduce heat to low and cook, covered , for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally until grits soften.
Add half-and-half and cheese and stir until cheese melts and the grits are thick and creamy. Serve hot. Makes 4 half-cup servings.
THE INSIDE LINE
If you're an aspiring grits connoisseur, use only the best—no Yankee supermarket instant stuff. The best I've found are stone-ground, whole grain grits from Falls Mill, Tennessee. For more information on how to get your grits and stock up on stone-ground corn meals, flours, and a multigrain pancake mix that can't be beat, see page 211 of the Red Letter Resources at the end of this book.
WHERE CAN I ORDER A CHICKEN-FRIED STEAK?
We all know that the thrill of eating an authentic chicken-fried steak—that funky southern cousin to Salisbury steak or Swiss steak—is inseparable from the fun of going out to your favorite eatin' place, ordering it, waiting for it, and having it served to you, hot, hot, hot on a huge plate of grits with white gravy. I'd have to open a restaurant to make that recipe work. So my search continues for the best chicken-fried steak in the world. I hear Threadgill's in Austin, Texas, sizzles up a good one. All of you CFS lovers out there, my address is in the back of the book. I'll wait to hear from you before I order or print a recipe.
The Incredible, Edible Omelet
Simply put, an omelet is beaten eggs cooked in a pan and then rolled or folded, often with a filling. Men have enjoyed this refined version of scrambled eggs ever since the first omelet, a honey omelet or ovemele, was whipped up one morning in ancient Rome. Duke Ellington, the royal man of jazz, claimed he was the “world's greatest cooker of eggs” and also swore by the stimulating nature of caviar. Just imagine…a caviar omelet. Nice.
So effortless is the French, or plain, omelet to make that Howard Helmer, the American Egg Board's Senior National Representative and holder of the Guinness World Record (427 plain omelets made in 30 minutes!), can create a filled omelet in less than 40 seconds. So man your “omelet station” and choose your filling; the possibilities are endless, limited only by your imagination and refrigerator contents. The timer is on—Go!
Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you likeand let the food fight it out inside.
—Mark Twain
Effortless Omelet
2 large eggs, room temperature (organic eggs make all the difference)
1 tablespoon lukewarm water
⅛ teaspoon salt
Dash of pepper, if desired
Butter or cooking spray
In a small bowl, beat the eggs, water, and salt together until blended. Add a dash of pepper if desired.
Heat 1 teaspoon of butter (or use cooking spray) in a 7- to 10-inch nonstick omelet pan or skillet over medium-high heat (the pan is hot and “ready” when a drop of water sizzles in it). Pour in egg mixture. (Mixture should set immediately at edges.)
With an inverted Teflon™ pancake turner, carefully push the cooked portions at the edges of the omelet toward the center so the uncooked portions can “spill over” and reach the hot surface of the pan. Tilt pan to spread the uncooked portions of the egg mixture as necessary.
When the top of the omelet is thickened and no visible liquid egg remains, fill it with your filling of choice, if any (for suggestions, see The Inside Line on next page). With the pancake turner, fold omelet in half. Let the omelet cook in the pan for 30 seconds to a minute more. Invert it onto a plate with a quick flip of the wrist or take the mellow route and simply slide it onto a plate. Makes 1 incredible omelet.
THE INSIDE LINE
Omelets cook so quickly that the filling should be selected and prepared before starting the eggs. My friend Michael Shapiro, a.k.a. Doc Omelet, suggests trying a “whatever's in the fridge” omelet or one of the international or custom combos below:
The Greek: Olives, feta cheese, spinach, and onions
The Mexican: Salsa, onions, chiles, avocado, sausage or bacon
The Jewish: Kosher salami, cheddar cheese, and onions
The Italian: Italian sausage, pepperoni, mozzarella cheese, and onions
The Garbage: Anything…broccoli, onions, sprouts, carrots
The Duke: Caviar
EGGHEAD EGGSCHANGE
What came first? Scrambled eggs or coddled eggs? Sunny-side up or eggs over easy? Huevos rancheros or a Denver omelet? Do you ever feel the urge for a “man on an island” (egg cooked in carved out toast) or crave an “Adam and Eve on a raft” (two eggs on toast)? Have you tried a Scotch woodcock—eggs served on toast with anchovies?
That little egg, the primal source of life, has cracked the code of our cuisine and our vocabulary. You've been taught to never put all of your “eggs in one basket” for fear of “laying a big egg” in public. If you have a friend who's an “eggshell blonde” (bald), you could “egg him on” to buy an “egg-boiler” (a bowler hat). But if he is a “good egg,” he'll just dismiss you as an “egghead” (intellectual) and go enjoy his egg rolls and egg cream soda (even if there are no eggs in either of them…).
In the Style of a Real Man
The French often baptize culinary creations with the preface à la— which literally means “of the” or more specifically “in the style of”—followed by the person, foods, or conditions that inspired the dish. Though today many men wear the chef's hat in the family, the following list makes it obvious who was in the kitchen working on the recipes when these phrases first came on the scene.
| à la boulangère | In the style of the baker's wife; served with fried onions and potatoes |
| à la fermière | In the farmer's wife's style; usually a roast served with celery, carrots, turnips, and onions |
| à la financière | In the style of the banker's wife; garnished with olives, mushrooms, and cucumbers with a truffle sauce and creamed goose liver soup |
| à la maréchale | In the style of the marshal's wife; scallops or chicken breasts dipped in egg and bread crumbs and fried in butter |
| à l'ambassadrice | In the ambassador's wife's style; special sauce made with Madeira wine and veal gravy |
In this new culinary Renaissance age of men in the kitchen, I add:
| au vrai homme | In the style of a real man |
As food historian Andrew F. Smith explained, “Real men do eat quiche, but it's usually only with a real woman.”
Quiche des Vrais Hommes
(Real Men's Quiche)
1 prebaked 9-inch pie shell (see page 208 for the recipe)
Quiche Filling
2 to 3 slices of premium bacon
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 teaspoons brown sugar
6 ounces fresh salmon, cut into small chunks
4 to 5 artichoke hearts, chopped
4 to 5 mushrooms, sliced
2 tablespoons sweet red onion, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
1 medium tomato, seeded and diced
1 tablespoon white wine or apple juice
½ teaspoon herbes de Provence
¼ teaspoon paprika
5 large eggs (fresh and organic is the key!)
1 cup half-and-half
⅛ teaspoon salt
Dash of white pepper
4 to 5 drops Tabasco™, to your liking
1 cup Swiss or Monterey Jack cheese, grated
Paprika garnish
Bake the pie crust for 7 to 9 minutes at 400°F (see The Inside Line on prebaking a crust, page 206).
In the meanwhile, prepare the filling. In a medium pan, fry bacon until crisp. Drain the grease from the pan and pat bacon with a paper towel to remove excess oil. Crumble the bacon and set aside.
In a large skillet, heat olive oil and brown sugar over medium heat, then sauté the salmon, chopped artichoke hearts, mushrooms, onion, and garlic for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the tomato, white wine or juice, herbes de Provence, and paprika and sauté for a few more minutes until the flavors meld. Remove from heat and set aside.
Reset the oven temperature to 325°F. In an ample bowl, whisk together eggs, half-and-half, salt, pepper, and Tabasco. Spread the salmon-artichoke mixture over the prepared pie crust. Sprinkle with bacon pieces and cheese and pour the egg mixture over everything. Garnish with a few shakes of paprika.
Bake in the lower half of the oven for 40 to 45 minutes, until egg mixture is set. (Cover edges of pie with foil if they begin to darken.) Let cool 15 minutes before serving. Makes 6 real servings for 6 real men.
Here's to me, and here's to you,And here's to love and laughter.I'll be true as long as you,And not one moment after.
—Irish breakfast toast
