Category Archives: Breakfast/Brunch

Brunch that hugs back

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The one area in which I’ve always considered myself to be a bad Chicagoan is brunch. People are always writing articles about what a great brunch city we live in, and I often get asked where to go to get the best brunch. Frankly, I’d rather spend my Saturday morning on the couch with a cup of coffee and homemade egg sandwich, watching the Premier League with Penny and the Mr. But when forced to suggest a place, nine times out of ten I recommend SmallBar on Division.

Yes, it’s a bar. And yes, the main Saturday morning crowd consists of dudes watching soccer and drinking pints. But the food is wonderful. The menu was redone two years ago by Justin White, a chef who’s worked at the Bristol (my favorite Chicago spot), Green Zebra and Custom House. He brings an elevated, gastropub sensibility to the food, but you don’t feel like you have to dress up to come eat it.

Corned beef is cured for 21 days in house for a rustic, filling corned beef hash that’s topped with a perfectly poached egg. Quiche gets spruced up with grated nutmeg, roasted cauliflower and a crunchy, prickly little side salad. And the farmer’s cheese and tomato jam sandwich is just that: housemade, sticky-sweet tomato jam and smoky farmer’s cheese smeared on hearty, thick country bread.

The menu changes fairly often, in tune with whatever strange garbage the Midwestern skies are hurtling down on us. Take last week for example. Icy rain, then snow, then brilliant sunshine accompanied by single-digit temperatures. On Sunday morning, Sean and I left the comfort of the couch to catch the last half of the Liverpool vs. Swansea game there.

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It took me about 8 seconds to decide that I was going to order the rice porridge. Rice slowly cooked with smoky bacon lardons and dinosaur kale, streaked with smoky-sweet chile sauce and topped with a poached egg–it was like they knew just what I needed. I was so tired of being cold, of bundling and unbundling and of having chapped lips all the time. I just wanted a meal that would hug back.

So below is my lazy attempt at recreating SmallBar’s heavenly rice porridge. I didn’t feel like frying, soaking and pureeing chiles, so I used store-bought mole sauce instead. I didn’t feel like poaching an egg, so I fried it instead. But I don’t really want my version to be exactly like SmallBar’s. I’d rather go there and have them make it for me again before the winter’s gone.

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Lazy rice porridge with fried egg
serves 4

    1 tablespoon olive oil, plus more as needed
    5-6 bacon slices, cut in lardons
    1 large leek (white and light green parts only), rinsed and cut into 1/4-inch rounds
    Salt and pepper, to taste
    2 cups arborio rice
    1/4 cup red wine vinegar
    5 cups chicken stock, plus 1 cup water
    1 bunch lacinato (dinosaur) kale, sliced in thin ribbons
    4 eggs
    Mole or other non-vinegary chile sauce, for drizzling

Method: Add the olive oil and bacon pieces to a large Dutch oven or other heavy-bottomed pot. Heat to medium, and cook until the fat is rendered and the bacon just starts to caramelize, 5 to 7 minutes.

Add the leeks, along with a sprinkling of salt and pepper, and cook until softened, another 5 minutes. Add the rice and toast for 2 or 3 minutes, until all the kernels are coated in the oil and slightly translucent.

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Pour in the red wine vinegar, stirring constantly until it has completely reduced. Then add the chicken stock, turn the heat up to high and bring the mixture to a boil. Cover, and reduce the heat to medium low. Cook the rice on a low simmer for about an hour, stirring occasionally. After the first 30 minutes, stir in the kale. Fifteen minutes after that, add the remaining cup of water.

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Once the rice is done, check the seasoning and adjust as needed.

In a nonstick skillet, heat the olive oil over medium high and add the eggs one or two at a time, depending on the size of your skillet. Season with salt and pepper, and fry for about 2 minutes per side, until the whites are set but the yolks are still runny.

To serve, divide the rice porridge equally among 4 bowls. Top each with a fried egg and drizzle with 1 or 2 teaspoons of mole.

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Filed under Breakfast/Brunch, Restaurant remakes, Rice

Cinnamon-scented Christmas

Decorating

Sean took this photo while I was decorating the tree last weekend. “I’m having trouble getting the camera to focus,” he said. But then when I saw it later I liked that it was blurry. It turned the photo into a representation of what is a very familiar annual scene for many of us and also one of my favorite days of the year.

Sean and I always decorate the tree while listening to the same two Christmas albums over and over (we should probably consider buying one or two more). Then, after a hard-earned dinner, we settle deep into the couch to watch “Home Alone.” I have been known to fall asleep two-thirds of the way in and then exclaim, “This movie is so short!” when I wake up 10 minutes before it’s over. But I still love this tradition.

Hungarian coffee cake

Because the holidays for me are so inextricably linked to food, this coffee cake is one of several family-inspired recipes I will force upon you this season, though I can’t claim ownership over it. It belongs to my mother-in-law Betsy, who passed away three years ago from ovarian cancer. Christmas was her favorite holiday, which means it’s also the time of year when I think of her most often.

She would spend the weeks leading up to Christmas baking a dizzying array of cookies, pushing a few tins on us each time we’d come over (along with a lovely, strange assortment of ornaments). Then on Christmas Day, she would have freshly baked Hungarian coffee cake waiting for us when we came to open our gifts.

A young Betsy and her recipe box

A young Betsy and her recipe box

Like Betsy, this coffee cake is sweet, spicy and just a little decadent. While it’s baking, your house fills with the warming aroma of cinnamon and sweet bread. It is the ideal companion for a cup of coffee, though Betsy always preferred tea. Whatever you drink with it, the best part about this coffee cake is pulling apart the little cinnamon-, sugar- and nut-coated balls of cake until your fingers, face, plate and coffee mug are all coated in sticky sugar.

The recipe below is my adaptation of Betsy’s–pulled from various baking websites. I scoured her recipe boxes but couldn’t seem to find the original version. But with practice I hope to make it a bit more like hers each time.

Hungarian coffee cake

Hungarian Coffee cake
adapted from Betsy Hennessy’s recipe box
Dough

    1 cup sour cream
    1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
    1/2 cup sugar
    1 teaspoon salt
    3 tablespoons active dry yeast
    3 eggs
    4 1/2 cups AP flour

Topping

    1 cup chopped walnuts
    1 cup sugar
    1 heaping teaspoon cinnamon
    1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted

For the dough: Combine the sour cream, butter, sugar, salt and yeast. Stir until the yeast dissolves.

Add the eggs and flour. Turn dough out on floured board and knead until smooth for about 10 to 15 minutes. Or knead in a stand mixer with the bread hook attachment for 10 minutes on medium high.

Dough in greased bowl

Place the dough in a greased bowl. Cover it with plastic wrap and let it rise in a warm place until it has doubled in bulk, 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Punch the dough down to degas. Turn it over and let it rise again, covered, for 45 minutes. Meanwhile, mix the walnuts, sugar and cinnamon together and dump onto a large plate.

Dough balls

Assembly and baking: After the second rise, shape the into 1/2-ounce balls. Dip each ball in melted butter and roll in the sugar, walnut and cinnamon mixture. Place the balls in layers in a 10-inch greased tube pan. Sprinkle any of the remaining sugar-nut mixture and melted butter over the top layer of balls.

Just before baking

Cover the pan with waxed or parchment paper and let the dough rise for another 45 minutes. Bake the coffeecake for 40 to 50 minutes at 375°F or until golden brown.

Fresh out of the oven
Remove the cake from the oven, and run a spatula around the sides before inverting the coffeecake onto a plate (do this right away). Serve warm or at room temperature.

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Filed under Baked items, Breakfast/Brunch

A small rant on omelets

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Those of you who read my blog regularly are well aware by now of my affection for eggs. So let me preface the following by saying that I rarely go on food snob rants and I promise it will be a short one.

There was a period of several years during which I stopped ordering omelets at restaurants. The “go big” mentality seems to be at its worst when it comes to the American omelet. Bloated, massive and overcooked, stuffed with too much cheese and a thoughtless combination of vegetables or five types of meat.

No single person requires a six-egg omelet, much less one accompanied by a tower of buttered toast and a mountain of hash browns. And so, during my lengthy protest of veggie with too much green bell pepper, overly cheesy Denver, meat indigestion lovers, or “dare I ask what’s inside” garbage omelets, I repeatedly opted to have those poor eggs poached or fried instead.

Then as a culinary student, I was exposed to the naked, nearly colorless antithesis to the American omelet when I learned the French way from a persnickety old chef from Normandy.

He slid a few beaten fresh eggs into a skillet filmed with foamy butter over low heat. He sprinkled them gingerly with salt, then prodded and moved the egg around with a fork to encourage as much exposure to the heat as possible without achieving any browning at all. Every minute he’d run a small spatula around the edge of the skillet. The top was still quite soupy when he began coaxing it out of the pan and rolling it over on itself. The end result was a lovely, pale, barely seasoned omelet that oozed just a little from the still runny bits of white and yolk in the center. “Pear-fect,” he sighed.

My ideal omelet is nestled somewhere in between these two extremes. Unlike the Chef, I like my omelets to be set. As for flavorings, I like them plain, seasoned with salt and pepper, or else lightly flavored with one or two accompaniments. A little cubed ham or a shower of tangy, salty cheese. Some finely chopped sautéed greens. Goat cheese and fresh herbs. Nothing too fancy or flavorful though. When it comes to omelets, it’s all about the eggs. Of course, dribbling a little hot sauce over the top never hurts.

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Omelet with scallion and Gruyere

    1 teaspoon butter
    2 small green onions, trimmed and thinly sliced
    Salt and pepper, to taste
    3 eggs, beaten well
    1/3 cup grated Gruyere (sharp cheddar or fontina would work nicely too)

Method: In a small non-stick skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the green onion, reserving a handful of the green part for later. Season with salt, pepper, and sauté for 3 minutes, until soft.

Add the eggs, the rest of the green onion and most of the Gruyere and reduce the heat to medium low. With a fork or small spatula, gently move the egg around to encourage as much exposure to the heat as possible. Run a spatula around the outside of the omelet every minute or so to loosen it. This will take 4 to 5 minutes.

When the omelet is firm around the sides and still a little soupy on top, carefully flip it over. There is a good chance you’ll end up with a little egg on the stove or on yourself.

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Cook the omelet for another minute or two just until the other side has set. Using your spatula as a guide, slide the omelet out of the pan and onto a plate.

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Carefully roll it like a burrito and sprinkle the top with the remaining cheese. Serves one.

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Filed under Breakfast/Brunch, Eggs

Love notes from Sean

I love when Sean sends me recipes. It’s like getting little love notes–it warms me right to the core. This one came in an email from him on a Wednesday afternoon. No explanation. Just a link to cheddar jalapeño biscuits from Simply Recipes.

Fate seemed to be hard at work because we got a big bag of chiles from my parents’ garden just a few days later. Their fresno chiles have been especially good this year, so I opted to use those instead of jalapeños. Fresnos have a nice combination of heat and bright, peppery crunch–I like actually getting a hint of pepper flavor in addition to feeling the heat. I also cut back a little on the sugar in this recipe because I tend to lean more savory.

Cheddar fresno biscuits are delicious on their own, which is dangerous if you don’t give them away. All weekend, I kept tearing off hunks and popping them in my mouth whenever I passed by the kitchen. (They kind of taste like pimento cheese. Mmmmm.) But they are also really good sliced in half horizontally and topped with fried eggs. Add a couple pan-fried tomato slices with torn basil and you have a heavenly, savory brunch.

Cheddar and fresno chile biscuits

    1 1/3 cups AP flour
    1/4 cup fine milled cornmeal or polenta
    2 1/2 tablespoons sugar
    2 teaspoons baking powder
    1/2 teaspoon salt
    Pinch cayenne pepper
    6 ounces shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
    2 tablespoons minced fresh fresno or jalapeño pepper
    3/4 cup heavy cream, plus more as needed

Method: Preheat oven to 425F. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, polenta, salt, sugar, cayenne, and baking powder. Stir in 5 ounces of the grated cheddar cheese and the minced fresnos.

Make a well in the center of the flour mixture. Pour the cream into the well and gently bring together the ingredients with your hands. If you need to add a bit more cream then do so a tiny trickle at a time. All you want is for the ingredients to get wet enough so the dough is sticky and clumpy.

Turn the dough out onto a surface lightly dusted with flour. Knead just a few times–maybe three or four pushes until it just comes together. Pat it down into a 3/4-inch-thick cylinder.

With a lightly floured biscuit cutter or skinny drinking glass, cut out round biscuits and place them 1 to 2 inches apart on a sheet pan lined with parchment or a silpat. Shape any leftover dough back together and cut additional biscuits as needed (work the dough as little as possible when reshaping). You should end up with 10 to 12 biscuits. Top each biscuit with a little more cheese.

Bake for about 12 minutes, until the biscuits are lightly browned and the cheese is melted.

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Filed under Baked items, Breakfast/Brunch, Vegetarian

Eggs for dinner

When I was little, some of my favorite meals were breakfast for dinner. If there wasn’t time to grocery shop, Mom or Dad would get the biggest skillet in the kitchen and fry up bacon or sausage links (which we never seemed to run out of), followed by eggs and fresh tomato slices. The meal was finished with warm, buttered English muffins and slices of whatever fruit we had in the house.

Often eggs for dinner were presented unceremoniously on paper plates to minimize cleanup, and one of us would usually end up leaving the table to eat in front of the TV. But it was always delicious–with each item tasting a little like everything else since they’d all spent time in that same, glorious skillet. I would happily chomp on bacon and juicy, charred tomato, dragging my English muffin through the egg yolk just like my dad, and reveling in the slightly naughty feeling of cheating on dinner.

To this day, I love eating eggs and toast for dinner. But I thought I’d spruce it up it up this time by making a strata with crispy pancetta, hunks of cubed bread, ribbons of fresh spinach and nutty Gruyere. I served it on the nice plates because, hey, breakfast for dinner should be celebrated!

Spinach and Gruyere strata
If you’re not an eggs-at-night type, this meal would also make a lovely centerpiece dish for brunch.

    2 tablespoons olive oil
    4 ounces pancetta, diced in 1/4-inch cubes
    2 large shallots, minced
    1/4 cup milk
    8 large eggs
    1 cup grated Gruyere cheese
    1 teaspoon salt
    1/2 teaspoon pepper
    2 thick slices Italian bread, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
    2 packed cups sliced fresh spinach
    Butter or nonstick cooking spray, for greasing the pan
    2 tablespoons chopped chives, for garnish

Method: Preheat the oven to 400F. Heat a skillet over medium heat, and add the olive oil and pancetta. Cook until the pancetta is golden brown and has rendered most of its fat. Remove it, leaving the fat in the pan. Add the shallot to the same skillet, and cook over medium until soft and slightly translucent, about 3 minutes. Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the milk, eggs, cheese, salt and pepper. Add the reserved pancetta and shallots and whisk to combine. Fold in the cubed bread and fresh spinach until combined. Let stand for a few minutes so the bread can soak up some of the egg. Note: Don’t worry if the egg-to-everything-else ratio looks a little meager–the eggs will puff up nicely in the oven.

Dump the egg mixture into a greased, 8-inch by 8-inch casserole dish, smoothing out the top a bit. Bake for about 35 minutes, until the center has completely set.

Allow the strata to cool on the counter for at least 20 minutes before slicing into four equal pieces. Before serving, sprinkle with chopped chives. Serves 3-4.

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Filed under Baked items, Breakfast/Brunch, Eggs

What is a quiche?

“Marge, what is a quiche?” my friend Caroline asked when I told her I was making ham, leek and Gruyère quiche for brunch a few weeks ago. “It’s an open-faced pie with eggs, cheese and meat,” I said.

A few days later when I started writing this blog entry, I realized that I didn’t know much about quiche other than what I had told Caroline. Yes, it is a tasty omelet nestled inside a buttery pie crust that has origins in Germany and France, but that’s about all I know. I sent a quick email to culinary historian and writer Andrew Smith, asking what he knew about the history of quiche in the U.S. He wrote back a few hours later:

“I have never seen a recipe for it in American cookbooks until it was popularized in the 1970s; the anti-quiche lobby promoted the phrase (later put into the title of a book) ‘Real men don’t eat quiche.’”

After a little more research I found out that the book was published in the early 1980s as a satire of stereotypes about masculinity. It introduced the term “quiche-eater,” a man who is overly worried about conforming to social norms and lacks the bygone, masculine virtue of tough self-assurance. While a traditional, man’s man might enjoy egg-and-bacon pie if his wife made it for him, a sensitive New Age quiche-eater would make it himself, call it by its French name “quiche” and serve it to his female life partner to demonstrate his empathy with the Women’s Movement. Then he would do the dishes. Or so said the book.

Luckily, the two men in attendance at my own brunch that day were happy to call my egg and meat pie a quiche and ask for seconds to boot, which might qualify them as habit-forming quiche-eaters. (They also helped me do the dishes later that afternoon.) I do love cooking in historical context, almost as much as I love the sweet sight of nonconformist men freely dining on quiche at brunch, which was appropriately followed by an epic marathon of “RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Oh, how far we’ve come.

But enough of that. Back to the recipe. As I mentioned, pie crust is an essential part of quiche. You can use a store-bought crust, but I recommend making your own. It’s a great recipe to have in your back pocket for pot pies, sweet pies, tarts, and of course, quiche. The great thing about pie crust is you can make it a few hours or even a day ahead of time, then shape it into a cylinder and store it in the fridge until you’re ready to bake. It also requires just a few ingredients that you probably already have on hand. I’ve included the link to my go-to pie crust recipe below.

This recipe calls for blind baking the pie crust. Blind baking means baking the crust by itself with some kind of weight on top before adding the filling. You do this when the filling has a shorter bake time than the crust. It also helps prevent the crust from becoming soggy from wet filling ingredients like cream.

Ham, leek and Gruyère quiche

    My go-to pie crust
    1 lb. dried beans
    2 tablespoons unsalted butter
    2 medium leeks, white and light green parts only, rinsed thoroughly and chopped (about 1 1/2 cups sliced)
    Salt and pepper, as needed
    5 eggs
    3/4 cup heavy cream
    3/4 cup milk
    Pinch nutmeg
    1/4 lb. thick-cut smoked ham, cut into 1-inch cubes (about 1 cup)
    1 1/2 cups grated Gruyère cheese
    Fresh chives, chopped, for garnish

Method: Preheat the oven to 375°F.

Roll out the pie dough to 1/4-inch thick. Place the prepared pie dough in the pie shell. Trim the dough overhang down to about 1 inch all around with a pair of scissors or sharp paring knife.

Working your way around, tuck the dough overhang back on itself, pressing lightly; then pinch a little dough between two fingers to crimp it, leaving about 1 inch between each crimp.

Poke a bunch of holes in the bottom of the crust with a fork to prevent air pockets from forming in the crust while it bakes.

Place a large piece of parchment paper on top of the dough and fill it with the dried beans. Press the beans into the edges of the dough and bake for 20 minutes, until the crust just starts to brown. Pull it out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. (Leave the oven on at 375°F.)

While the crust bakes, prepare the filling. Melt the butter in a skillet over medium heat, and add the leeks. Season lightly with salt and pepper and sauté until the leeks are soft and slightly translucent, 8-10 minutes.

Make the egg custard. Whisk together the eggs, heavy cream, milk, nutmeg, and a sprinkling of salt and pepper.

Now spread the leeks on the bottom of the pie crust in an even layer. Top that with the ham and shredded cheese.

Pour the egg custard over the filling.

Bake for 45-50 minutes, until the eggs have set and the top is a deep golden brown.

Pull out the quiche and set it on the counter to cool for at least 20 minutes. With a very sharp knife, slice 8 equal-size pieces. Sprinkle with chives, and serve warm or at room temperature. Serves 4.

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Filed under Baked items, Breakfast/Brunch, Eggs