Easy Recipes

A few weeks ago, I was trying to help a friend come up with some quick and easy dinner plans. She was swamped at work, her husband was out of town, and her two young kids needed the usual amount of attention. I asked what shed been cooking lately. She listed a handful of dishes, nothing fancy but certainly nothing to sniff at. Also, she admitted with some level of embarrassment, theyd been having a lot of breakfast for dinner.

There always seems be some shame in having breakfast for dinner. Every time someone scrambles up an egg, or plops some pancake batter on the griddle, theres an accompanying feeling of not being a Proper Adult. PAs clearly know the difference between breakfast and dinner, and feed their family the appropriate meal for the hour (and also never, say, get past-due notices for their forgotten health insurance co-pays). But I argue that we should let go of those prejudices. Pancakes, eggs and the like make wonderful dinners. As long as you do them up right.

As Ive mentioned before, Im a big fan of poaching eggs in a sauce. They absorb flavor, the whole mess is deliciously fun to sweep up with a piece of bread (or tuck inside or tortilla), and, most importantly, its just really easy. This dish is no exception. Taking inspiration from a blog post I read a few months back, I cooked up a saucy saute of onions, fresh tomatoes, grated summer squash, and fresh basil. Then I made a few divots, cracked in some eggs, and covered and cooked til they were set to my liking. Add a slice of crusty flatbread, and its perfect. A delicious, one-pot, near insta-meal, with a healthy helping of vegetables. Wheres the shame in that? Breakfast for dinner, you do not disappoint.

And, if breakfast for dinner isnt your thing, I present an article I wrote on the flip side: dinner for breakfast. You can check it out in The Oregonian.


Eggs Poached in Summer Squash Saute

inspired by The Kitchn, but tweaked to my taste/groceries
serves 2

2 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion, chopped in a fine dice
2 cloves garlic, sliced
2 large tomatoes, diced
1 summer squash, grated on the coarse holes of a grater
1 handful fresh basil, chopped
salt and pepper
4 eggs
crusty bread or flatbread, for serving

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over a medium heat. Add the onions and a sprinkling of salt, and cook until softened but not colored, ~7 minutes. Add the garlic, and cook for a few more minutes. Add the tomatoes, squash and basil, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes break down and get saucy, and the squash is tender, ~10 minutes. The mixture should give off a lot of liquid, which is what you want (it will absorb/cook off when you cook the eggs). Add salt and pepper to taste. Make 4 divots in the mixture with the back of a spoon, and crack an egg into each divot. Cover, and let cook until the eggs are set to your liking. Top the eggs with a bit of additional salt and pepper, and serve with bread.

Oftentimes Im shocked at the caliber of drama in my friends lives. Not the usual human drama of love and life and work and such -- Im talking about events which seem scripted by Hollywood screenwriters, and dont normally befall mere mortals. To whit: a friend who works in resource conservation recently spent the day sorting through waste to assess a transfer station, only to be joined by some guy whose wife threw out his secret garbage bag containing $10,000 in cash. This actually happened. In real life. I know other (unnamed) friends who have staged false conflicts to get on daytime court shows (evidently you get put up at nice hotels and receive a program-paid settlement), and yet another whose vibrator was discovered during an elegant dinner party. I cant even imagine material this good. In comparison, my life is pretty yawn-worthy.

But every now and then, I try to engineer a moment worthy of the big screen (or, at the very least, the small screen). This elaborate dessert is my best attempt for a touch of glamor, crafted out of only a rudimentary baking knowledge and a good amount of eggs and dairy. Twice in the past few years I composed this ridiculous confection, broke into the houses of recently-engaged dear friends, and left it in their refrigerator (I should note that, in one of these cases, I did actually have a key). This dessert is undeniably involved, and best reserved for such situations. But when they do arise, its great to have in your arsenal.

This recipe starts with a stellar chocolate mousse, which in and of itself is a glorious thing. But the mousse is hidden inside a cloak of soft meringue, and then the whole affair is plated on a puddle of creme anglaise, a delicious vanilla custard sauce. And, if youre feeling so inclined (and really, if youve come this far, you might as well), the sauce is studded with adorable hearts drawn out of a berry puree (or, say, the runny part of some poorly-set blueberry jam). Its undeniably involved, and takes a good chunk of time. But some situations call for high drama. Given my general impatience and poor aesthetics, the end result might be more of a quirky indie heartwarmer than a polished Hollywood oscar-winner. But I wont complain -- its delicious, dramatic, and perfect for any Valentine.


Chocolate Mousse-Filled Meringues in Creme Anglaise

mousse adapted from Judy Rosenbergs Rosies All-Butter, Fresh Cream, Sugar-Packed No-Holds-Barred Baking Book, creme anglaise adapted from Bon Appetit, and meringue tweaked, heavily from the Pavlova recipe from the amazing Eggbeater

yields 8 cups, plus some extra chocolate mousse for what-have-you

Meringue:
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp cornstarch
3 egg whites (reserve the yolks for the creme anglaise)
pinch salt
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp white vinegar

Creme Anglaise:
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup cream
1 chunk of vanilla bean, split (or a dash of vanilla extract instead)
3 egg yolks (left over from meringue)
3 Tbsp sugar

Chocolate Mousse:
4 1/2 oz semi-sweet chocolate
1 1/2 oz unsweetened chocolate
2 eggs, separated
1 Tbsp sugar
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 egg
1 Tbsp coffee

a bit of runny jam, or berries blitzed with sugar and lemon

Start with the meringues: preheat the oven to 250, and grease 8 muffin cups or similarly-sized ramekins. Whisk together the sugar and cornstarch, and set aside.

Place the egg whites and salt in the bowl of a mixer, and begin to beat, starting on low and gradually increasing the speed to high over the course of a few minutes, and beat until soft peaks form. Gradually add the sugar-cornstarch mixture, and then the vanilla and vinegar. Continue to beat until the meringue is glossy and forms stiff peaks, an additional 4-5 minutes.

Apportion the meringue into the muffin cups/ramekins, filling them to the top (theyll puff up a bit as they bake, but then shrink back down). Place them into a casserole dish and fill the casserole dish with water until it comes halfway up the muffin cups. Bake for an hour, until the meringues are just beginning to color. Turn the oven off, and allow the cups to cool in the oven for another hour.

While the meringue is cooking/cooling, make the creme anglaise: Place the milk and cream in a saucepan, and scrape the vanilla beans out of the pod (and then toss the bean in as well). Bring to a simmer, and then remove from heat. While the dairy is heating, whisk together the yolks and sugar in a large bowl. Pour the hot milk and cream into the yolks, whisking all the while. Pour back into the saucepan, and heat over a low flame until the custard thickens enough that you can draw tracks in the back of a wooden spoon (~5 minutes). Remove from heat, and pour through a strainer into another bowl. Cool in the refrigerator (you can make this ahead if you like).

Make the chocolate mousse: Place chocolates over a double boiler, and let sit over simmering water, stirring occasionally, until melted. Set aside to cool very slightly.

While the chocolate is melting, place the egg whites in the bowl of a mixer, and beat until frothy. Sprinkle in the sugar, and continue beating until soft peaks form. Transfer to another bowl, and set aside.

Pour the cream into the mixing bowl, and beat on high speed until soft peaks form. Set aside.

Take the remaining egg yolks, and place them in a large mixing bowl along with the whole egg and the coffee. Pour in the melted chocolate, beating vigorously so that the eggs dont curdle. Take about half the beaten egg whites, and whisk together to combine well and loosen the mixture. Then fold in the remaining whites, trying not to deflate. Fold in the cream.

To assemble the whole shebang: Take the meringue cups, and scoop out the innards using a spoon, mini ice cream scoop, or melon baller. Try to clear out ample space to fill with mousse without breaking through the meringue. Pack each meringue cup with mousse, then set them to chill in the refrigerator for at least an hour or so.

After the mousse-filled meringue cups have chilled, slide a thin knife around the edge of each one to loosen, and turn them out onto a plate. Pour the chilled creme anglaise in a puddle around it. Place drops of your berry puree/runny jam on the plate, and draw a knife through to pull them out into heart shapes. Served to your loved ones.

According to every American website and magazine, I should be spending these days thinking about pies and cranberry relish, about on-sale luxury gifts for my holiday lists. But Im not. Im still thinking about sweet and briny shrimp the size of your thumbnail,


horses sunning themselves on wind-swept mountains,


and bucolic towns in rolling hills (which also have Michelin-starred restaurants).


And squid.


Okay, I realize that many out there are not fans of squid (and I also realize that my somewhat turd-like picture probably doesnt help the cause). Squid are, for lack of a better word, kind of oogy. Its hard to see those tentacles without imagining them wrapping wetly around your ankles (or is that just me?), and jet-black is not generally an appetizing color when it comes to sauces (or, really, any food item beyond olives and caviar). But despite its aesthetic handicaps, this is one heck of a dish.

Ive heard it said that squid should be cooked either two minutes or two hours. Theres some truth to this -- a quick turn in the pan leaves squid tender, but cook them for more than a few minutes and they toughen up to an unappetizingly rubbery consistency. If you want to return them back to a chewable delicacy, youve got to stew them for a good long time until they soften again. This traditional recipe takes the long view, which not only softens the squid, but deepens the flavor of the dark, briny sauce. And while the squid picture lacks the majesty of my other shots of the Basque Country, it captures the same spirit: a simple, un-fussy approach to some of the best ingredients in life.

Txipirones en su Tinta (Squid in Ink Sauce)

traditional, as interpreted by Iñaki Guridi
serves 4

1 1/2 lbs squid, cleaned
1/4 cup olive oil, divided
2 red onions, diced
1 green pepper, diced
2 packets squid ink
1/4 cup red wine
1 cup water or fish/seafood broth, plus additional as needed
2 slices baguette, cubed
bread or rice for serving

Take the tentacles of the squid, and stuff them inside of the tubes (squid in the Basque Country are conveniently sold this way, but if yours come separately this step wont take much time). Dont worry about closing the tubes around their contents -- as the squid cook both the tubes and tentacles will swell, sealing them into neat little packets.

Heat half of the olive oil in a soup pot or large skillet over a medium-high heat. Add the squid in a single layer (you may need to do this in batches), sauteing until they brown lightly, ~3-4 minutes per side. Remove and set aside.

Add the remaining oil, lower the heat to medium-low, and add the onion and pepper. Saute, stirring occasionally, until totally softened but not browned, ~30 minutes.

While the onion and pepper are cooking, carefully open the ink packets (unsurprisingly, this stuff kinda stains), and squeeze into a small glass. Add the wine and the water/broth, stirring well to blend.

When the onions and pepper are soft, add the ink-wine mixture, and saute for a few more minutes. Add the cubed bread, and cook another 5 minutes. Transfer to a blender (or use an immersion blender), and blend until the mixture is smooth. Add additional water/broth if needed, to create a gravy-like consistency.

Return the squid to the pan, along with the ink sauce. Bring the mixture to a simmer, then cover and lower the heat until it just barely maintains its simmer. Cook for an hour. Serve with bread or rice to sop up the sauce.

My grandmother had a rotting old cookbook from the turn of the century, which I used to leaf through when I was visiting. Its recipes were more of a historical tour than a guide for actual cooking. Possum? Aspic salads? Yikes. I spent many hours lost in its pages, but my favorite was the section entitled "Cooking for Invalids." Its a section youd be hard-pressed to find in a cookbook today. There were nourishing soups, smooth purees, and a horrifying concoction called "beef tea" which involved chunks of raw meat, water, a canning jar, and a water bath lasting several hours. And then there were the custards.

I never much had custards growing up, other than the boxed puddings that took their place for my mothers generation. As the cookbook illustrated, to some people they represent sickbed food, or the slippery sweets of childhood. But for me, they have an elegant simplicity. Floating islands, or ile flottante if youre feeling French, is a lovely grown-up version of this smooth dessert. It features a particularly luscious custard, the barely-thickened creme anglaise. Into this puddle you dollop a meringue, gently poached in milk. You can also add a handful of tart berries if you have them, to cut through the milky sweetness. The islands of meringues can be smoothly shaped, in theory, although mine usually turn out more like jagged glaciers. But its beside the point -- the meringues are just an excuse to allow you to pour yourself another sea of smooth custard.


Floating Islands

adapted from my friend Emilys grandmothers recipe

serves 6

Custard:
2 cups milk
6 egg yolks
scant 1/2 cup sugar
pinch salt
1/2 tsp vanilla

Meringues:
2 cups milk
6 egg whites
1/3 cup sugar
pinch salt

To make the custard: bring the milk to a boil over medium heat, then turn off the heat and let sit.

In a separate saucepan, beat the egg yolks with the sugar and salt until they thicken and lighten, about 3 minutes. Drizzle the just-boiled milk into the pan in a thin stream to temper the egg yolks, whisking all the while. Once the mixture is well-combined, place the pan over a medium-low flame. Continue to stir with a wooden spoon as it heats, until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of the spoon so that it holds the mark if you draw through it with your finger. Remove the pan from the heat as soon as this happens, and pour the custard through a strainer into a waiting bowl. Stir in the vanilla. Refrigerate until chilled (it will continue to thicken).

To make the meringues and assemble the dessert: Bring the milk to a gentle simmer over medium heat.

While the milk is heating, beat the egg whites, gradually adding the salt and sugar, until they form stiff peaks. Drop rough half-cups of the meringue mixture into the simmering milk. You can form jagged islands, or use two spoons to make somewhat smooth ovals. Let the islands simmer for one minute in the hot milk, then gently turn and simmer for another minute on the second side. Using a slotted spoon, remove the islands from the milk and set to drain on a clean plate. Repeat until all of the meringue is poached. The islands will swell dramatically in their simmer bath, and then shrink disappointingly when theyre removed. Serve immediately on a puddle of chilled custard, or place in the refrigerator for up to 4 hours.