I used to love winter. I would tolerate summer knowing that my desperate anticipation of fall and winter would be rewarded with grey skies and thick cozy sweaters. When I opened my eyes in the morning and saw that there wasn’t even a sliver of blue in the sky, I would smile.
After living in Portland for four years, well, needless to say, I’ve changed my tune. I find myself craving warm weather like some folks crave ice cream. If the sun peaks it’s head out from behind the ever-present clouds I instinctively turn my face toward it like a sunflower.
Today is the first day of spring and, of course, it’s cold and grey outside our open windows. But if you look close enough at the trees you’ll see little buds just on the verge of bursting into an explosion of hope and fertility. What better way to honor the vernal equinox in all her green glory than with the universal symbol of spring: the egg.
I love eggs. A perfect orb of complete protein, filling and versatile. Eggs are nature at its finest. The problem is that eggs don’t love me. I can eat them fine if they’re in foods like baked goods, and occasionally in the evening on a salad Nicoise, but to start out a morning with a couple of freshly boiled eggs or an omelet means Adam will find me bent over in the kitchen with a glass of aloe juice in one hand, baking soda in the other and the sort of look of discomfort and pain that you don’t want to see on your girlfriend’s face.
It hasn’t always been like this. Up until about five years ago I could eat eggs with wild abandon. Scrambled, poached, fried, no issues, not one. Then one day when I was living in Hawaii, and I remember the day, my mom and I were driving to Hilo to shop for a desk. We wanted to get an early start as Hilo is an hour’s drive from my folks house, so I boiled a couple of eggs for the road. By the time we arrived at the first furniture store, bad things were happening in my gut. I promise I won’t go into any vivid details, but it was not good, and sadly, in the years since, nothing has changed. About once or twice a year I give eggs another shot. Just maybe my stomach is producing the appropriate enzymes again and I can eat eggs, but soo far, no dice.
So why eggs you may ask? Simply put, it was an excuse to photograph my Puji bowls again. Adam’s folks occasionally have access to backyard eggs that are the sweetest little eggs you’ve ever seen, tiny and adorable. Each egg is a different shade of blue, white or ivory, it’s like everyday is Easter. So when I picked up Puji’s bowls a couple of weeks ago, I immediately thought of these eggs. You can see why, no?
adapted from Food52
Whilst perusing cookbooks and online recipe sites for egg recipes I felt like it was 1978 and I was planning a swinging fondue party. Deviled eggs, frittata, poached (which I ‘m afraid to take on yet), and benedict, every egg recipe I came across just felt so cheesy. Since there was no avoiding it, I went with a classic. Smoked salmon frittata, simple and easy, perfect for just about any meal of the day and with just a burst of lemon to brighten your day.
What you’ll need~
Zest and juice of one lemon
1 shallot, thinly sliced
1 bunch dandelion, or your other favorite greens, torn
4 oz smoked salmon
1-2 tablespoon dried tarragon
salt and pepper to taste
Pre-heat your broiler.
In a large bowl, whisk your eggs until it starts to bubble a bit. Stir in the lemon zest and lemon juice.
Crumble in the goat cheese and smoked salmon.
Warm about a tablespoon of olive oil in a deep, oven safe, skillet over medium heat.
Toss your sliced shallots in the skillet and cook, stirring frequently for about 3-5 minutes until the shallots begin to just caramelize. Add the torn dandelion and cook until nicely wilted.
Remove pan from the heat and add salt and pepper to taste. Let cool for about a minute, then pour the shallots and dandelion greens into the egg mixture and stir.
Put the skillet back on the heat and add a bit more olive oil.
Pour the eggs in to the skillet and cook over medium heat for about 10 minutes, or until the frittata has mostly set.
Use a spatula to lift up the edges of the egg to make sure it’s cooking evenly.
When the frittata has set, place the pan under the broiler for 3 minutes. You want the top of your frittata to be golden brown and just beginning to puff up.
Remove from the oven and let rest for 5 minutes. Flip out onto a platter and serve immediately.