Long Island Larder: Eggsile's Return
Among the rehabilitated foods recently exonerated by the Food Police, eggs are my favorite ex-culprits. They are among the finest, cheapest, most versatile foods in the kitchen and an invaluable source of protein as well.
Few foods were so thoroughly exiled from the American diet, so vilified as a card-carrying cholesterol-killer, as the simple, delicious, fresh egg.
"Oops! Our mistake!" asserts a new study by experts: Eggs don't contain nearly the amount of "bad" cholesterol that had been thought.
The subject has always been confusing. Since most of the populace never could define the difference between H.D.L. (good) and L.D.L. (bad) cholesterol and relied only on total numbers in tests, many decided to just give up eggs and be done with it.
I was never among them. However, I was intimidated enough to cut down on my consumption - the two a day (considered essential to start the day in my parental household) reduced to not more than one omelette or egg dish a week.
But I refused to count the couple of eggs among the ingredients in various recipes designed to feed six or eight people.
I often wonder what happens to the kind of client who, when traveling in other countries, grills the waiter about the egg, cream, or butter content of the dish he's just ordered. I rather imagine the reply to be an icy "I do not know, sir" or madame.
New Yorkers and Californians, particularly, are considered wackos about food not only abroad but in the rest of our own country.
Maybe with the easing of the egg embargo, we can all repair our tattered consciences about the state of our arteries and unlax with some of the tasty, nutritious omelettes, souffles, and puddings so long on the X list.
Elemental, My Dear
Whenever I am tired, or need a quick supper after a cocktail party, the first thing that comes to mind is always an omelette. An omelette plain or herbed or filled with a bit of cheese or some quickly sauteed vegetable from the fridge.
What could be easier or rest more lightly on the stomach or be more pleasing to the eye than a plump yellow omelette? With a glass of wine it makes, in Elizabeth David's inimitable words, "an almost primitive and elemental meal."
It's probably coincidental, but my favorite of Mrs. David's great body of gastronomic works is one of her last, "An Omelette and a Glass of Wine."
Anchovy Hath Charms
Despite the countless times I've watched the mouths of otherwise knowledgeable people curve down with distaste at the mention of anchovies, I'll never give up my efforts to enlighten all to their charm.
And olives: strong, sharp, imported ripe black olives from Greece, Italy, France (or just about anywhere but California, home of the inexplicably tasteless behemoths).
These voluptuous stuffed eggs, at once velvety and salty, disappear first on any hors d'oeuvres tray. A pastry bag makes short work of filling the halves.
Choose small, medium, or at most "large" eggs, so that they aren't unwieldy to eat out of hand.
Stuffed Eggs
Makes two dozen halves.
12 hard-boiled eggs
3 Tbsp. light mayonnaise
6-8 calamata or other brine-cured black olives, pitted and minced
1/2 tsp. anchovy paste
salt and cayenne pepper to taste
2 to 3 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley leaves
Various garnishes: black-olive slivers, or chopped parsley, or bits of anchovy fillet, about 8 of each kind
To boil eggs properly: Pierce the large end of each one with a heavy needle or egg-piercer and place in a pot of cool water to cover by two inches. Gently swirl in a tablespoon of plain white vinegar, bring the eggs gently to the boil, reduce heat and cook, occasionally moving them around with a spoon handle to center the yolks.
Simmer about 10 minutes, cool immediately in cold running water, roll the eggs on the counter gently to crack the shells and slip them off. Rinse and dry them.
Through A Sieve
Cut a paper-thin slice off both ends of eggs and halve eggs crosswise. Force yolks through a sieve or ricer into a bowl (or mash with a fork) and stir in remaining ingredients, except garnishes.
Transfer filling to a pastry bag fitted with a large plain or decorative tip and pipe into whites, mounding it.
The stuffed eggs may be made six hours ahead, arranged, covered with plastic wrap, and refrigerated.
Just before serving, garnish the eggs and permit them to come to cool room temperature.
Pear Clafoutis
Everywhere I've ever seen this French country dessert, it's been made with fresh cherries. However, there's no earthly reason not to make it with any fresh fruit, or even soaked dried fruit, you fancy. Simplicity itself, there are few desserts that offer a bigger round of applause for so little effort.
Serves six.
4 extra-large eggs
1/2 cup white sugar
Pinch of salt
1/3 cup unbleached flour
1 cup milk
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. grated lemon peel
3 large pears, peeled, cored, sliced
1 Tbsp. lemon juice
1/4 cup light brown or raw, unrefined sugar
Confectioner's sugar
Heavy cream, whipped cream, or custard sauce (opt.)
A Warm Softy
Preheat oven to 325 F. Generously butter a nine-inch-diameter deep-dish glass pie plate. Whisk the eggs with the half-cup sugar and salt in medium bowl to blend. Whisk in flour. Add milk, butter, vanilla, and lemon peel, and whisk until smooth. Toss the sliced pears with the lemon juice and brown sugar. Arrange pears in bottom of buttered pie plate. Pour the batter over the pears.
Bake until the clafoutis is just set in center and golden on top, about 55 minutes. Do not overcook, as the pudding will continue to cook as it rests at room temperature for 15 minutes or so. Sift powdered sugar over the clafoutis and serve very warm, with or without whipped cream or a simple custard sauce, passed separately.
Breadcrumb-Cheese Souffle
A distaste for any but the freshest bread around my house results in a huge bread surplus. This gets spun into crumbs in the food processor and frozen to use in future recipes. This is the world's easiest souffle, quick to make and untemperamental, and it uses up a lot of breadcrumbs. In addition, in costs almost nothing to make and feeds four handsomely. Add a salad dressed with walnut oil and lemon juice, a fruit dessert, and there's money left over for a decent bottle of wine. A meal fit for a prince or a pauper.
Four servings.
31/2 cups white bread crumbs from a firm loaf
Softened butter
3 cups milk (not skim)
2 cups shredded Gruyere or Cheddar cheese
1 Tbsp. Dijon style mustard
1/8 tsp. or more cayenne
1 tsp. coarse salt
4 extra-large eggs, separated
cream of tartar
3 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley
2 Tbsp. grated Parmesan or Romano cheese
If you haven't any on hand, make the crumbs in a food processor or grate them on the larger holes of a box grater. Butter a two-and-a-half quart souffle dish and coat it with some of the crumbs. Shake them all around the dish and dump the excess back into the dish of crumbs. Heat the milk to just under the simmer and pour it over the crumbs.
Don't Overbake
Preheat the oven to 375 F. Stir the Gruyere or Cheddar, mustard, ca yenne, salt, and the egg yolks into the breadcrumbs.
Beat the whites with the cream of tartar until firm and glossy but not dry. Fold a third of them into the breadcrumbs, add the parsley, then fold the crumb mixture back into the beaten whites as lightly and quickly as possible. Pour the mixture into the souffle dish and lightly smooth the top with a rubber spatula.
Sprinkle with grated Parmesan and set the dish in the center of the oven. It will be puffed and light golden brown in about 20 to 25 minutes - undercook rather than overbake, which makes the souffle too dry.
The breadcrumbs seem to hold their own against gravity better than the conventional Bechamel-based souffle, but the souffle still deflates when cut into. Use a large flat serving fork and a spoon to serve at table.
A few fresh green beans or some new asparagus would be nice with the souffle, or just serve a salad alongside, family style. It's a family dish, after all, and a very good one to make when you need only half a recipe to serve two.