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I haven’t always been as big a fan of eggs as I am now. I remember being forced to eat scrambled eggs as a child and hating them. I liked hard-boiled eggs, but only because my grandmother had one of those fancy hard-boiled egg slicer things, and I liked seeing the egg split into perfectly even slices.

I watched with awe as my father poked the yolks of his poached eggs, but I had no desire to eat the semi-cooked yellow ooze myself. How strange… now it’s my favorite way to eat eggs, fried over potatoes or sometimes some cooked spinach.

I really started liking eggs in high school, when my best friends and I would traipse down to the diner in the town where our boarding school was for the lunch special: five dollars for eggs, potatoes, toast, juice and coffee. I always got mine fried, very soft, so that I could mop up the yolk with the potatoes.

Since then, I have come to terms with the fact that eggs are the only thing that most college students can afford to eat in abundance, and since the Canadian loves fried eggs (he’ll eat five for breakfast), I’ve started buying the flat of thirty eggs at my local market. We even bought some goose eggs once, although they don’t scramble very well: the texture is very different from that of a chicken egg.

After awhile, even the Canadian got a little tired of fried eggs, and so I began inventing things. Omelettes, scrambles… anything to mix up our regular fare. I’ve been meaning to post these for awhile, but now that I’ve waited so long, I may as well give you all the recipes at once. Enjoy!

I don’t really work from recipes as far as eggs are concerned… mostly I use omelettes as a way to get rid of extras in my fridge. I scramble the eggs with milk, plain yogurt, fromage frais, crème fraîche or sour cream (or a combination) depending on what’s in the fridge, and then I move to the ad-ins. I’ll give you some outlines here though…

Mexican Scramble
The first picture is a Mexican scramble. it has salsa, thawed frozen spinach, and a bit of shredded cheese. I seasoned it with salt, pepper, hot chili pepper, coriander and cumin, and I had some Tabasco sauce on the side. I usually don’t make scrambles, but the amount of salsa in this one really makes it difficult to flip… so voila! A scramble.

Chorizo Omelette
The second picture is an omelette with Spanish-style chorizo (that’s the cooked kind), and some cheese… I think I used provolone. Any mild cheese will do… the Sausage packs a kick!

Gorgonzola and Mushroom Omelette
The last picture is an omelette with Gorgonzola cheese and cooked mushrooms. I fried the mushrooms first and then added the eggs and cheese, seasoning with a lot of black pepper.

The goose egg.

Check out other egg-related posts at the Art You Can Eat roundup on Eggs.

I don’t know what possesses me to try new potato gratin recipes. I have a perfectly good recipe that I adore, and now every time I try a new one, I get disappointed. I tried an apple and fontina one at epicurious a few years ago and the same thing happened. It’s not that the dish was bad… the people I made it for loved it. It just wasn’t mine.

Take this recipe for Potato au Gratin with Chanterelles. I had it bookmarked for a long time, and then chanterelles were on sale at my weekly market, so I decided to try it out. The Canadian gobbled it right up, but there was something that just wasn’t right for me.

I’ve decided that instead of messing around with new recipes, what I should be doing is combining recipes I like with things I already know work. I loved the taste of the chanterelles with the potatoes, so next time, I’ll be adding celeriac and chanterelles to my tried and true gratin recipe. Who knows… maybe I’ll even give that sweet potato and apple idea another go. But lesson learned… a favorite is a favorite for a reason.

Me with two margaritas for the price of one. Olé!

When I actually lived in the States, I never craved American food. Ever. My favorite food was Italian, which, as a New Yorker living in an Italian-American family, I could get any day of the week. I had my occasional sushi binge, and I was never one to turn down a bagel, but I never had these incredible cravings that I get now. When I get home, I buy myself a bucket of buffalo wings and go to town on them. I need, need, need an American grilled cheese with Campbell’s tomato soup. But more than anything, what I really, really miss is decent Mexican food.

I like almost everything that passes my lips to be hot, hot, hot. I used to carry a bottle of Tabasco around with me to flavor food that was not hot enough for my liking. When I reheat my mother’s tomato sauce for lunch, I add crushed red pepper. Where the Canadian adds parmesan cheese, I wield cayenne. The French are not so into hot. I knew that if I wanted Mexican done right in the City of Lights, I would have to do it myself.

I started out with a recipe for Chorizo Tacos from Nosheteria. The recipe was sort of an outline, so I didn’t feel bad changing things up a bit: I didn’t have nearly as many mushrooms as were recommended, so I supplemented extra potato, which I chopped into a fine dice instead of grating (my grater had been melted by the Canadian and we had yet to receive our industrial one care of my Mom). I never achieved the melting potato that was outlined in the original recipe, but it did its job of soaking up the grease from the sausage, which was actually a mix of merguez and Spanish-style Chorizo, which is cured, not raw. But even with the changes, the slick-less taco filling that was promised came through.

This and some white fish that I just floured, spiced with salt, pepper and cayenne were the taco fillings. I also made two quesadillas: one with the chorizo mixture and a mixture of shredded emmental and mimolette (this is France here… we don’t have pepper jack and cheddar), and the other with cheese and a combination of red and green spring onions.

But wait… there’s more!

I also made my famous guacamole, which I learned how to make from our Mexican housekeeper, Francesca. Recipe at the end.

All I seem to see nowadays as commentary on recipes for cornbread, chili, lasagna, spanakopita… is critique for the fact that the recipes aren’t authentic. Well, I’m sorry, but sometimes I can’t find real queso fresco or Mexican chorizo. And I’m OK with that. The whole point of cooking is to try new things, to experiment, and having a group of friends over to enjoy some slightly Frenchified Tex-Mex is my idea of an amazing night.

The Canadian’s three-liter bottle of Crown Royal (aka Steve Royal) got into the festivities as well: he’s sporting the sombrero I brought him from Mexico!

Chorizo Tacos (adapted from Nosheteria)

1 large yellow onion, diced
2 links of merguez, removed from casing
6 slices of Spanish Chorizo, diced
1 large potato, diced fine
5 button mushrooms, sliced

Heat a skillet over medium heat. Add the sausage and stir until it releases some yellow grease. Add the onions and stir, cooking until translucent (5 minutes). Add the potato and fry until cooked through. Add the mushrooms, stirring until they are cooked and all traces of oil are absorbed.

Francesca’s Guacamole

2 Hass avocados
1/2 red onion, finely chopped
1 tomato, seeded and chopped
juice of 2 limes
salt to taste
cilantro, chopped, to taste

Halve and remove the pits from the avocados. While still in their shells, use a sharp knife to chunk them (think checkerboard) and then use a spoon to remove the flesh. Mash SLIGHTLY with the tines of a fork. Combine with the other ingredients, except the tomatoes, and allow to sit for at least an hour. Add the tomatoes and combine fifteen minutes before serving.

Just a short post for you guys today. I had gone to Monoprix (kind of like our Wal-Mart) and stocked up on ravioli. I ran out of sauce one night when I wanted to make it, so I invented this recipe. It would work with any kind of ravioli, but we had four-cheese. It’s really quick, too, which is nice for a week night, or a Wednesday for me, when I have class until 9:20.
Baked Ravioli

1 package fresh ravioli
1 red pepper, chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
2 tomatoes, chopped
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons olive oil
a few chunks of parmesan cheese
salt and pepper

Cook the ravioli according to package directions. Place in a large baking dish with the peppers, tomatoes, vinegar, olive oil, and salt and pepper. Toss to combine. Top with chunks of parmesan cheese. Bake at 400 until the tomatoes release their juices and the cheese is melted.

I have made my issue of undercooking things previously known. This problem, I may have also said, stems from a severe fear of overcooking things. Overcompensation… something I should work on.

Anyway, when I found a recipe over at Jaden’s (care of one of her biggest fans, Brilynn) that actually allowed me to cook something for as long as I wanted without any fear of overcooking, it was a dream come true. I made the salmon the evening before we spent the night waiting for the Canadian’s sister in Charles de Gaulle airport.

It came out beautifully cooked, but not the bright color that Jaden got. When, however, I made salmon for the Canadian’s sister later that week, as the Canadian and I were eating tuna, which she does not like, I experimented with turning the oven down 50 degrees. It worked wonderfully! It took a bit more time, but that’s no problem.

Jaden’s recipe is, as she states, more like a set of guidelines than an actual recipe. I’ll link you to her post about it, but the following is what I did.

Slow-Cooked Salmon

1 yellow onion, sliced
1 red onion, sliced
1 scallion, sliced, white and green separated
1 orange, sliced
olive oil
2 tsp. sesame oil
2 salmon fillets
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tsp ground ginger plus extra
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
garlic powder
salt and pepper
one lime

Place the onions and orange (reserve the green parts of the green onion) in the bottom of a baking dish. Toss with olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and ground ginger to taste. Salt and pepper the salmon fillets and place on top of the onions. Evenly distribute the sesame oil on top of the fillets. Add the tsp of ground ginger, the sesame seeds and the brown sugar, evenly dividing between the two fillets. Bake in the oven at 200 degrees for about 35 minutes, or until a paring knife inserted in the center comes out evenly. Squeeze lime juice over the fillets and garnish with green parts of scallions. Serve with extra onions if desired (if you have time, stick them in the oven and crank it up to 450 so they get a bit sweeter. If you don’t the yellow onions still have a bit of a bite).

Note: The steaks were the first time I made, it… the fillet is the Canadian sister’s. For hers, I didn’t have any orange or green or red onion, but she didn’t mind. For hers, I put the lime in with the aromatics.

Wow… after a lot of difficulty, I’ve finally participated in my first Daring Bakers Challenge… and I loved it!

The challenge this month was for French bread. “Perfect,” thinks I, “I live in France!” Plus, I figure it won’t be too difficult, considering that I’ve made bread before.

I made my little baby bread ball, stuck it in the oven with the light on (thanks for the tip!) And let my kitchen steam up with the smell of bread dough.

Of course, it wasn’t nearly as easy as I thought it would be. The shaping at the end, especially, proved to be rather difficult, as is pretty obvious from my pictures. The tip in the recipe about putting a pan of water and ice in the bottom of the oven to create steam worked wonders for the crust, and the taste was good, which is what counts.

In the end, I definitely learned something, and I’m feeling much more confident in my bread-baking skills. Who knows… maybe bread will become a new part of my regular repertoire?

I’m so glad I participated in this, my first challenge! Be sure to check out the other Daring Bakers’ posts as well!

OK… so here’s the thing. I call myself an Italian-American, but the truth of the matter is, I’m only half. My mother, who does the majority of the cooking in my house, is actually German-Irish, and so she sees no issue with serving cheese with fish-based pasta dishes.

Personally, I never used cheese on these dishes. The only pasta and seafood meal she made was Shrimp Fra Diavolo, and she almost never made it. I worshiped the spiciness of the dish, and I refused to dull it at all with cheese. In fact, as I got older, I would often add more hot pepper.

So it wasn’t until I went to Italy that I realized that you are technically not supposed to eat cheese with these dishes. My brother or sister would order cheese with their Spaghetti con Vongoli, and the server would look at us as though we all had two heads.

I suppose my father never put cheese on his seafood pasta either… I guess I just never noticed. No Italian I’ve ever asked has really been able to explain the reasoning behind this… but then again, no French person can ever tell me why they think peanut butter and jelly is a disgusting combination.

So when I couldn’t tell the Canadian why “you can’t eat seafood pasta with cheese!” he used our brand new cheese grater to cover his liberally with parmesan. I just added extra pepper and shook my head.

Spicy Shrimp and Spaghetti (adapted from Culinary in the Desert)

3 ounces dry spaghetti
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon Cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon chili paste
2 garlic cloves, minced
8 ounces frozen pre-cooked shrimp, thawed
1 28-oz can whole tomatoes
2 tablespoons sour cream
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 teaspoon dried basil
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook pasta and drain, reserving some of the pasta liquid.

Meanwhile, heat oil in a large saucepan. Add Cayenne, chili paste and chopped garlic and cook just one minute. Lower heat and add shrimp. Stir in tomatoes, tomato paste, basil and salt. Simmer 10 minutes until sauce is slightly reduced. Remove sauce from heat and stir in crème fraîche and pasta. Add pasta water if needed. Serve with extra pepper on the side, or cheese for your non-Italian guests.

Serves one and a Canadian.

I love markets.

I love taking my big canvas bag out and perusing the different stands, buying up cheap, fresh produce and meat and fish (and containers of thirty eggs). The Canadian calls it “Emily versus the market.”

Every week, I go to the market near my house. I have to walk about ten minutes to get there, and it’s a nice walk, right across the Champs de Mars. Sometimes, I go twice a week. Whenever I invite the Canadian, he grumbles and stands aloft. He doesn’t help me pick anything. He says he “doesn’t do well at markets.” I tell him that this is ludicrous. He likes food. He should like looking at food. He says he likes looking, but he wants to be able to pay for everything all at once. I tell him I’ll pay. He says if I pay, he doesn’t want to pick things, because he feels bad about me paying for food that he wants. I say, then he should give me money. He says, “then why don’t I give you money, you go, and I’ll stay here and wait for you. Bring me a present.”

I go to the market alone a lot.

On Thursday night, I made Jaden’s Tropical Salmon (coming tomorrow to a blog near you) for me and the Canadian. The Canadian did the dishes (he lost a bet and has to do the dishes for a week. It’s nice.) Then we packed up and went out to the airport for seven hours.
Why, you ask? The Canadian Sister is here visiting us from Barrie, Ontario! She’s never been to France before. She was arriving at six in the morning, and since it takes an hour to get to the airport and the RER doesn’t start running until 5:30, we left the night before. We set up camp in the arrivals terminal, I raided the vending machine for snacks, and we waited.

When she finally got here, she came with me to the market. She didn’t want to sleep, she said. She wanted to get over her jet lag right away.

I like her.

The Canadian gave us money and took a nap.

The Canadian Sister is much better at the market than the Canadian. Maybe it’s a girl thing. She helped me pick produce, made faces with me at the cheval (horse) in the butcher’s case, got made fun of for speaking English with me. (”Américaines? Canadiennes? Allemandes? Anglaises?”), and she picked the steaks we had for dinner.

I never appreciated steak when my mother made it. We had it about once a week, but it was as normal to me as chicken. Now that I know how much it costs, steak dinners are few and far between. But the Canadian Sister likes steak, and I like the Canadian Sister, so we got three entrecôtes.

I’m always afraid of undercooking steak (yeah… that last post pertains to steak as well), so I got myself a recipe. The steaks were incredible. I served them with the Mushroom Hash from the Wednesday Chef, and the meal was delicious. And no, I didn’t undercook them… they were perfectly medium-rare. Even though I did almost set the kitchen on fire (something on the bottom of the pan caught on fire, and for some reason I was perfectly calm as the bottom of the frying pan erupted into flames, and I just sort of held it aloft until it settled down. I imagine this is what Giada di Laurentiis must do if this ever happens to her. Or someone on severe anti-anxiety medication. It is very anti-me.)

The Canadian Sister is sleeping now, and the leftover steak is sitting in the fridge. I think I may go snack on it while I wait for her to wake up.

Belgian Steak (adapted from Everybody Eats Well in Belgium by Ruth Van Waerebeek)

4 sirloin steaks
3 tablespoons butter
salt and pepper
red wine
good mustard

Bring the steaks to room temperature. Heat the butter over medium heat until melted, then turn the temperature up to high and add the steaks. Cook for one minute on each side, and then add salt and pepper and turn the temperature down to medium. Cook the steaks until done, turning every so often. For medium rare, about six minutes in total. Remove the steaks and allow to sit for several minutes to redistribute the juices. Meanwhile, add about a tablespoon of mustard to the pan and deglaze with a cup of red wine. Stir to combine and serve on the side.

I have a habit of undercooking baked goods. OK, scratch that. I have a habit of undercooking everything. I’ve undercooked steak. I’ve undercooked ahi tuna. That takes a lot of skill and dexterity.

I guess I’ve just always been fairly convinced that there is nothing worse than something that is burned or overcooked. A gray steak has absolutely no appeal, no matter how succulent the filet cut was to begin with. The actual application of heat is everything, and I’d rather pull out a quickbread that’s a little doughy in the center than one with a crumb like styrofoam and a crust like cardboard.

But not this time. No, sir. I just tried the Pumpkin Pound Cake over from Desert Culinary. (Sidebar: I love this blog. I just discovered it a while back, and I feel like I’ve been missing out. I’ve already made two recipes from it–the other will be up here soon–and I can’t wait to make more!)

The cake came out perfectly. After about thirty minutes, the house smelled just like pumpkin, and I desperately wanted to peek, but I just sat at my computer reading my other food blogs and waiting. And waiting. Until the dreaded fifty minutes were up and I peeked. I checked with a toothpick. And then, something unheard of. Without cutting into the cake, I put it back in the oven.

I know. It’s a milestone for me. But when the cake came out ten minutes later, after a total baking time of one hour, I knew it was worth it. The Canadian and I have been snacking on this cake all week, and it is divine. Sweet, but not too sweet, spicy, moist and delicious. And not in the least undercooked.

I made a few changes:

1. As you can tell from the pictures, I skipped the buttermilk glaze. I wasn’t using real buttermilk in the cake anyway (I soured my own milk with lemon), so it didn’t seem worth it. The cake didn’t suffer.

2. I used light brown sugar, because the box was opened. It had started to clump a bit, but try as I might, I couldn’t get some of the smaller clumps to… un-clump. But it actually worked to my advantage: see those little pockets of dark brown sweetness? There were several floating throughout the cake, and they were a welcome surprise. I may have to do it again on purpose next time.

3. I didn’t dry the pumpkin on paper towels first. I’m lazy. It didn’t matter much.

4. I subbed the spices listed for a four spice powder sold here in France made up of cinnamon, nutmeg, black pepper and cloves. It’s easy. I’m lazy.

5. I used all all-purpose flour.