Stay at Stove Dad

How to Cook an Egg

I've found it hard to cook these days for a couple of reasons. The first is that finding a new place to live is a massive task. Instead of chopping onions, I'm talking on the phone with friends about real-estate lawyers and the ins-and-outs of other neighborhoods. We need to move someplace with decent subway access to Manhattan, proximity to a great grocery store (nothing we find will land us as close to the Park Slope Food Coop as we currently are, alas), and good public schools. The first two points are not as much of an issue as the latter one. A good school will most likely determine where we end up next. Figuring out what makes a school good, is another question. Answering that will require more time on the phone and in front of the computer.

The other reason is a bit more ironic. It's really quite a shame that our over-sensitive ex-neighbors moved out when they did. One of the things that drove them crazy was the sound of the kids in the early morning. When they came to complain about it, I told them that I sympathized completely--the sound of the kids in the early morning drove me crazy.

The kids slept until 8:30 this morning. The later they sleep, the less time I have to cook before going to work. Back when Pinta used to wake at 5 a. m., I would make soups and stews with her beside me on the floor of the kitchen. I think I dirtied every non-lethal utensil daily during those days. I would toss her pots, pans, spoons, empty plastic containers, and anything I could get my hands on to keep her busy. I got a lot of cooking done back then.

But this morning the house was silent until 8:30 a.m. I was shocked when I woke. We had a mad dash to get out to school and work. I didn't have time to do any prep work in the kitchen for tonight's dinner. When I got home from work, I was tired and hungry. Fortunately, I had made chicken soup over the weekend, and I ate some of that for dinner. We have a freezer full of old bread, and I used three pieces to make grilled cheese. Still, I wasn't satisfied. I needed more protein. The best thing I could find in the fridge to eat were eggs.

When I was a child, my mother made eggs a special way for me. She called it a "Chopped Up Egg." It caused great confusion whenever I slept over at a friend's house. "Eggs for breakfast? Over easy, sunny side up, or scrambled?," the parent would ask me. "Chopped up, please," I would reply, not knowing anything else to ask for. "What?" was usually the response.

It is a poached egg in a dish, chopped and served with some butter and salt and pepper. My mother usually served it in a tea cup. I loved it. I don't make it very often anymore, but it still tastes good in my memory. I was too lazy to make chopped up eggs this evening. I just boiled and peeled the eggs and ate them. I'm not proud, but I am well rested.

Chopped Up Egg

• 1 egg
• 1 teaspoon butter
• salt and pepper

Bring a pot of water to a boil and then reduce the flame until the water is barely simmering.

Crack the egg and slip it into the water gently.

Poach it for three or four minutes, depending on how well done you like your eggs. I like the yolk bright yellow and solid, but you may not.

Put the butter into the bottom of a teacup, along with some salt and pepper.

When the egg is ready, remove it from the water and pat it dry with a paper towel.

Transfer it to the teacup and chop the egg up with a spoon, mixing the butter and the salt and pepper together.

Enjoy.

Note: This is also delicious with a bit of toast crumbled into the cup.

An Old Friend Shares His Best, Healthiest Pancake Recipe and Other Advice

Lately I’ve been in touch with a former colleague, the writer and editor Charles Michener. I used to work with him in New York, and he’s now based in Cleveland, researching a book on the lakeside city. Charles is a bit older than I am, and his children are grown. He’s still interested in cooking, certainly, and offered the following advice. It is timeless.

I've cooked for my family (ies) since I got fascinated as a kid by how to make an omelet. I was about ten when I successfully flipped a mushroom omelet without using a spatula. (Now I prefer to turn off the heat while the top is still runny, put a lid on the pan, let it sit for thirty seconds and then gently roll up the omelet.) In my view, making an omelet is the best way to begin learning proficiency at the stove. It teaches you how to handle and crack eggs; blend whites and yolks; make judgments about seasoning (don’t salt the eggs until after they’re in the pan); understand different ingredients (cheese, tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, herbs); observe the effects of heat; and execute split-second finishing so that the result looks good on the plate. And you learn how great such a complicated little mixture tastes when it’s right off the stove. From there, it’s a short step to frittatas, which I also find deeply satisfying to make. Another wonderful learning dish for kids is risotto, which I taught my daughter when she was three. The slow transformation and expansion of rice kernels into the pillowy final product is magical. Making a risotto also teaches diligence and patience.

In high school, I belonged to a group of boys who started a Gourmet Club as a way to get girls. It worked. Don’t forget to put Edith Piaf on the hi-fi when you’ve brought out your Coq au Vin in a copper pot and placed it next to the pre-dripped candles.

I've cooked in a restaurant in Venice, Italy. And I really enjoy cooking for myself, fortified by an ice-cold vodka martini without vermouth. Lately, I've tried cutting back on oils—using cooking spray (the best I've found is Smart Balance Omega)—and substituting light chicken stock for oil in salad dressing. I've also cut back on eggs—or at least whole eggs (whites alone do almost the same job); pork and beef (the occasional Nieman Ranch bacon is like Beluga caviar; a great cheeseburger is now like Beef Wellington); cheese (except for goat cheese); and milk (except for almond, soy or rice milk). I've actually grown to like whole-wheat pasta and brown rice.

I did a simple dinner the other night for eight people: a salad of baby spinach and watercress, roast beets marinated in Balsamic vinegar, toasted walnuts, crumbled feta cheese and marinated white anchovies; brown rice (I like Lundberg Countrywild) with lots of bay leaf, tossed with scallions, parsley and lemon zest; and a shrimp sauté - garlic, chopped tomatoes, shitake mushrooms, capers slowly simmered in chicken stock before adding the shrimp, brightened at the end with lots of chopped fresh tarragon, basil and a splash of lemon juice. Dessert: berries and sorbet.

Essentials in my pantry: capers; Maldon sea salt; Pepper Supreme peppercorns; bay leaves; cayenne; tumeric; cardamom pods; coriander seeds; cinnamon; whole nutmeg; pure vanilla extract; Worcestershire sauce; Sriracha hot chili sauce (better than Tabasco); small jars (better than tins) of Italian tuna packed in oil; ditto with anchovies; Goya canned beans; canned whole tomatoes (I love Redpack); varieties of brown and wild rice; Carnaroli rice for risotto; rice crackers; varieties of whole wheat pasta, especially penne rigate (most versatile); good quality red wine vinegar (for salad dressing) and extra virgin olive oil (get the best and use sparingly as finisher on pasta); extra light olive oil (for salad dressing and cooking); white vinegar ("secret ingredient" in chili and complex stews).

Essentials in my fridge: lemons and leeks (the two best culinary catalysts); non-dairy milk; variety of Italian, Spanish and Greek olives (never pitted); sun-dried tomatoes; tomato paste; Trader Joe’s ginger spread (good with cheese or to spark up a salad dressing); Dijon mustard; Hellman’s mayonnaise; Durkee’s Famous Sauce (still the best sandwich spread ever); parmigiano reggiano; homemade tarragon pickles; multigrain tortillas; varieties of good spicy salsa; wild forest honey; pure maple syrup.

Top tip: the best cooking is cooking with things at hand–and by hand.

Here's my recipe for the best, healthiest breakfast I know of. The kids will love it.

Oatmeal Pancakes

               The proportions are for four, 4"  pancakes.

• 1/2 cup old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant);
• 1/4 cup low-fat cottage cheese (or yogurt);
• 2 egg whites (one beaten and folded in for fluffier pancake);
• 1 whole egg (optional);
• 1 tsp pure vanilla extract;
• 1/4 tsp. cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg (or more for flavor);
• 1/2 tsp baking powder;
• pinch of salt.

Combine ingredients in a blender and mix until smooth.
Let batter settle while heating griddle to very hot.
Lightly grease griddle with a stick of butter or Smart Balance Omega spray.
Pour batter onto griddle in four, same-sized pancakes.
Flip when bubbles appear and pancakes darken and begin to smoke.
Serve with heated pure maple syrup or wild forest honey.
You can add blueberries, thinly sliced bananas or crumbled toasted walnuts to the batter.

Father's Day Breakfast Surprise

Santa Maria is a woman of remarkable fortitude. She once ran the New York City marathon without training (she had volunteered to escort a blind runner through half the course, but the person who was supposed to relieve her didn't show up, so she ran the whole way). Also, when she was younger, she climbed Kilimanjaro. Oh, and she married me.

Her strengths were on display this morning. Last night we went out to a friend's wedding, and we didn't get home until well past midnight. Nina, who is just getting over yet another bout with a mystery virus was up at 5:50 a.m., and she was hungry. At least she wasn't throwing up, like she was the day before. Santa Maria got out of bed and took care of the kids and let me sleep in. It was a generous Father's Day gift.

Once I got up, Santa Maria made an old-favorite breakfast, something she's christened a Dutch Baby. Her mother used to make the sweet and savory egg dish for her. It has flour, lemon, and powdered sugar in it. The Dutch Baby is essentially a variation on a popover or Yorkshire pudding. Santa Maria makes it in a cast-iron frying pan. We once went through a phase of eating it every week. That was shortly after Pinta was born, a period that also coincided with Santa Maria carrying around a since-lost, post-delivery, thirty-extra pounds: watch out, it's a rich dish.

It's a delight to cook. It fluffs up in the oven, and then has to be rushed to the plate before it completely collapses. The kids love to get involved. They can sprinkle the powdered sugar on top. We eat with cherry jam and smiles.

Alas, Santa Maria had to make the Dutch Baby this morning from a modified recipe. I had taken to my office the recipe that she perfected during that pos-partum period. She didn't have the right one at her disposal. I thought that this version turned out well. The kids agreed. Pinta saw the little triangluar piece on her plate and said "Pizza!" I was excited to see her devour the Dutch Baby. Up until now, she has refused to eat eggs. We might have to start making it more often again. Tomorrow, I'll post the proper recipe for the Dutch Baby.

Food, Inc.

Last night, the Museum of the Moving Image organized a screening of the new documentary “Food, Inc.” I went, and an old joke came to mind: There are three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth.

“Food, Inc,” delivers a gut-wrenching (pardon the pun) look at our nation’s food supply, and there are some who are going to say (or who are already saying) that the film doesn’t tell the truth. That’s a bunch of malarkey.

It is true that the film doesn’t present the views of Monsanto, Perdue, Tyson, and the other major companies that dominate the market. But that’s only because they refused to cooperate with the director, Robert Kenner. After the screening, Kenner told the audience that when he started the project, “I wanted to make a film about where our food comes from, but more than fifty companies wouldn’t talk to me.”

Those companies do talk, but only about to distract us. They advertise like mad, filling our minds with cheery slogans and our eyes with pretty pictures. They don’t want the truth about what they are doing to be known. It’s not just that they don’t want the public to see what happens in a slaughterhouses or how chickens are actually raised. They don’t want the public to learn how government policy makes corn chips, soda, and the like cheaper than fresh vegetables. They don’t want you to think about what you are eating.

“Food, Inc.” does an excellent job of condensing the ideas of such authorities in the field as Eric Schlosser (of “Fast Food Nation”) and Michael Pollan (“The Omnivore’s Dilemma”), both of whom appear in the film, as well as showing how seemingly rational decisions can have unexpected, and un-healthy, effects. We have some of the most productive farmers in the world and cheap food is a worthy goal. But that food needs to be good for us, and for the planet, or else we might just not be able to afford it.

The film opens on Friday, June 12, and there’s a screening in Brooklyn next Wednesday, the 10th, at The Bell House. Annaliese Griffin, the editor of the lifestyle and events-listing site Brooklyn Based, will interview the director and Schlosser after the screening.

More Pancake Recipe Tricks

As this blog grows, I plan on including outside contributions. My recent post on pancakes drew this response from my friend Peter Feld.  He’s not, to the best of his knowledge, a father. But he once was a kid. 

In my house, Saturday mornings were for French Toast, and Sundays belonged to Dad's pancakes. French Toast was great but I loved Sundays better. Like John, my Dad never used mix. Nothing fancy - no separated eggs or whipped egg whites. The main secrets to success were good proportions and a tablespoon of vanilla. I've taken his tricks with me all over the world and they haven't let me down yet. Here goes:

2 1/2 cups flour.... white back then, but nowadays I would think about using whole wheat or at least unbleached.
3 tbsp sugar... this was back in the '60s, I'd cut that now by a bit, no loss of flavor
3/4 tsp salt
1 tbsp baking powder.

Mix together dry ingredients, then add:

2 eggs
2 cups milk (low-fat now)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 stick melted butter.... well, nowadays I cut back on the butter and just melt some in two pans for cooking and pour most of into the batter and stir. Beat it all together, then start ladling the batter and cooking the pancakes. Dad didn't go for adding fruit until after we were grown, but blueberries (frozen are fine), bananas, or both make it even better.

When the bubbles pop and harden, and the top is no longer moist, time to flip them. Hopefully the temperature is such that the pancakes don't burn on the bottom before the top is dried out. (Get the pan good and hot before you start, then turn down the heat. Somehow the first one is always a little off, but that gives you something to nibble while you cook the rest of them.) But of course, if that happens, just serve with the burnt side down!

How to Make Pancakes

I am a slow learner: one of five children, I didn’t grasp the concept of sibling rivalry until I came across the term in a college textbook. But I do have some brains, and it didn’t take a doctorate, a master’s, or a bachelor’s degree for me to figure out that families have competing interests. This past Sunday was mother’s day, and my brother was throwing a party for my mother. This left little time for Santa Maria, so we celebrated early, on Saturday.

I started the day off with fresh-fruit pancakes. Before Santa Maria and I became parents, would spend Saturday mornings lazing about in bed. There was little else we wanted to do. Pancakes became the only reason to get out from under the covers.

I knew a few things about pancakes that made eating them as good as any other activity we might engage in during those laid-back mornings. I found it was as easy to stir up a batch of batter from scratch as it was to open a box of mix. My old roommate Kevin Conley taught me how to caramelize bananas on them. He also showed me the trick of beating the egg whites to make them light as air.

I became so obsessed with beating the egg whites that I once served inch-high pancakes to my extended family one post-Christmas morning and they started calling me “Fluff Daddy.” Santa Maria isn’t as enthusiastic about the super fully cakes so I’ve eased off on beating the eggs. I still do it, just not as rigorously.

In cooking the pancakes for Santa Maria back in the days before children, I made an amazing discovery. Pancakes, those steamy, floppy, sad-sack diner mainstays, can come light and fresh with an otherwise unheard of crispy edge. The trick is to eat them right off the frying pan—no stacking a bunch in the oven. And making them small, silver dollar sized, helps. The crispy and buttery edge only lasts about as long as it takes to get the plate from the kitchen to the table. Enjoy it if you can. It’s a rare pleasure.

My batter is adapted from a recipe in “The Joy of Cooking.” I separate and beat the egg whites. I fold them into the wet batter and I’ve learned that you do not need to mix the batter completely. Too much stirring will make the pancakes tough. Mix the wet and the dry ingredients just long enough to combine them. Leave a few lumps, and let the batter sit for a few minutes. By the time you come back to it, they will have dissolved.

I cook the pancakes in the traditional manner, but I also spice them with cinnamon or nutmeg. I put slices of bananas, pears, apples, and other fruits on the half-cooked pancake before turning it. When I flip them, the fruit caramelizes and the result is delicious.

One note: Nina isn’t fond of fruit and she won’t eat the pancakes the way I make them. Santa Maria figured out that we could grate some apple and put in the batter. She eats them this way, and I’ve learned that they are pretty good, too.

Fresh-fruit Pancakes

        For the batter:

• 1 1/2 cups flour
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 3/4 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 to 1 1/2 cups of milk
• 2 eggs, whites separated
• 1 to 2 tablespoons butter

        Combine the dry ingredients and mix well with a fork (many cookbooks will tell you to sift the flour;             I've never bothered to do so)
        Melt the butter.
        Mix the yolks in with the milk.
        Beat the egg whites until they can barely hold a peak.
        Combine the dry ingredients with the wet.
        Don't mix too much.
        Fold in the whites.

        For the toppings:
        Slice a banana, pear, apple, or other fruit thinly.

        Heat a frying pan over medium heat, add some butter. Pour in the batter. When bubbles form, layer             on the fruit. Flip the pancake. Cook until finished. Serve with Maple Syrup.

The Sweet Smell of Success

I do much of my cooking in the early morning. I often head right from the bed to the stove so quickly that it doesn't even occur to me to change my clothes. I'll chop onions and celery and carrots and what have you while still wearing my pajamas. Right up to the moment I have to dress and run out the door to work, I continue on my daily culinary journey while dressed in my night clothes. The end result, other than whatever fine and tasty dish I've competed, is that my pajamas often take on a cooking odor. I only notice this eighteen hours later, when I'm on my way to bed, and I don't usually like it. Tonight, though, my pajamas smelled like the bacon I cooked this morning for breakfast. That's not such a bad smell at all. Makes me kind of hungry, in fact.

Kid Stuff

A week or so ago, out of the blue, Nina observed that we hadn't had pancakes in a long time. This was true.We've been too tired and too busy to bother. I changed this on Sunday morning when I prepared a batch before everyone got up. Well, almost everyone. Pinta was awake early, as she always is. The only time she ever sleeps past six AM are on the nights when she's been up crying during the early hours of the morning. She doesn't give anyone any rest, including herself.

So after I diapered her, gave her a bottle, and had my tea, I started on the pancakes. I always make them from scratch. It's easy. I use a variation on the recipe in "The Joy Of Cooking," with less sugar than they call for. I also separate and beat the egg whites.

I add fruit to the pancakes, but not just to the batter. Years ago I roomed with the writer Kevin Conley, and he taught me about caramelizing the fruit on one side of the pancake. Conley, who has since moved on to more exciting pursuits (his book about stunt men and women, "The Full Burn," came out earlier this year), showed me how to slice bananas, pears, apples, or other fruit very thinly and layer them on the top of pancake batter as it cooks in the pan. When one side is done, flip it and you'll get a nice brown edge on the fruit as the pancake finishes.

By the way, there's something about pancakes that often gets lost in the time it takes them to get from the stove to the table. Fresh ones have an irresistible, crisp edge. When pancakes are stacked and held before serving, as is the case at a diner, for example, they loose it. It's worth making them in small batches and eating them as quickly as possible (not really a challenge).

On Sunday morning, I prepared the dried ingredients and then waited for the rest of the family to get up. When Nina woke and saw what was happening, she asked to do something that just made me swoon. She came into the kitchen and said, "Can I help make the pancakes?" I gave her the task of mixing the flour, salt, sugar, and baking powder. She also helped me measure and pour the milk.

Today's New York Times has an article on the benefits of having kids help in the kitchen. It is supposed to make them less picky eaters. I'll have to get Nina to read it; she may have wanted to help make the pancakes, but she's resistant to eating fruit, almost all fruits. If she sees any on the pancake, she's not interested.

We want her to eat more fruits, so we tried a bit of subterfuge. Santa Maria grated some apple and put it in the batter for Nina. It goes against my beliefs to lie to my kids, and I generally don't sneak ingredients into dishes. I figured it would be okay this time, though. So long as Nina didn't ask about the apple, I wouldn't have to say anything. She loved the pancakes and I had one of her apple-filled ones by accident. They were quite good and I might make some for myself next time.

Pancakes:

1.5 cups flour

1T sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1.75 teaspoons baking powder

Combine those ingredients.

3T butter (or less)

1 plus cups milk

1-2 eggs, whites separated

Melt butter, add egg yolks to milk, mix. Add butter.

beat whites

Combine dry ingredients with the milk and butter. Mix gently until mostly combined. Do not over mix.

Fold in egg whites.

It's fine to let the batter sit for while at this point.

Heat maple syrup

Slice bananas, apples, or other fruit.

Heat frying pan. Add butter. Pour batter into pan in small puddles. cook until air bubles appear in batter. Add layer of fruit. Flip and finish.

Back On My Feet

Now that my hand is mostly healed, I've been cooking with a vengeance. Frankly, having the broken hand was a vacation. I'd forgotten what it felt like to stand for hours in the kitchen. Sometimes I feel like I'm running a small restaurant. Yesterday, it felt like it was a big restaurant. I started with pancakes from scratch; moved on to a Turkish lentil bulgar soup that's perfect for the winter; prepped a chicken for this morning's Chicken Provencal; marinated beef for the Tagine I plan to make later in the week; and cooked salmon and pasta puttanesca for dinner. At least I ate well. When I have more time, I'll post details on everything.

The Sweet Way

Oatmeal has long been one my breakfast standards. I use organic rolled oats and they cook in about twenty minutes. Santa Maria was big on seasoning them with cinnamon and nutmeg and walnuts and apples, but I'm happy to have it plain. So was Nina. Pinta, not so much. She used to eat it, but then started rejecting it. So I changed my course. I added salt while cooking (something most, if not all recipes call for, but I'm resistant to; why calibrate their palates to love salt?), but that wasn't sufficient. Nuts are out, because the doctors and their blood tests tell us that Nina is allergic. Santa Maria came to the rescue with a touch of brown sugar. Pinta gobbles it up now. Easy as pie.

Oatmeal:

2 cups rolled oats
4 cups water
salt
bring to a boil, covered
simmer  until soft and creamy (can also be made with milk); about twenty minutes
season with above spices, if so desired

serve with milk and or butter and cinnamon and walnuts and apples or whatever you like.