C has tapped the secret of scrambled eggs.  Not even just the secret of making them, but the secret revelation of what they can be.   I have never had the best pastime of scrambled eggs.  They have always been a bit lost.  Somehow the rich sensuousness of the yolk is lost in the technique.  The dowdy other-half to bacon.  More of a showcase of salt and pepper.  I have become arrogant in my omelet abilities and have always attempted scrambled eggs with the same high-heat, pan-moving treatment.  However, they are always too dry and half of the final product gets lost to the pan.  I love the instant gratification of eggs, but sometimes a little added technique and patience can reintroduce something so simple and satisfying!

Low and slow is the way to go!  Turn on the stovetop to its lowest setting.  Beat best-quality eggs with a splash of milk, a small drizzle of water, and a generous amount of salt and pepper.

Throw a hearty nob of butter into the pan, about one teaspoon per egg, pour in the eggs, and be prepared to stir!  Much like a risotto, these eggs need both affection and attention.  Keep stirring

Cooking the eggs at the lowest temperature creates smaller, silkier curds and a creamier, velvety final product. Once you can draw a smiley face on the bottom of the pan, BRAVO!  You are almost there.

Depending on the temperature of your stove, it can take anywhere from 5-15 minutes.  Keep stirring until they are just barely set.  When done right, they will have a a custard-like texture.  Serve with chopped chives and crème fraiche, or with a tranche of smoked salmon.  Serve them however you would normally serve scrambled eggs.  However, they do not need much more than a sprinkle of sel de fleur and a piece or two of toast to sop up all the delicious creaminess.  Or reunite these made-over scrambled eggs with their other-half, bacon.

Presque-etarian

So I am back in NYC after a two-week trip to Butterville.  Don’t get me wrong, I love that I have the ability to pick up and return to France whenever I can.  But after returning to New York from my hiatus vacation to Paris, my bod is barking for some detox.  Mind you, I strive for clean living and eating in my homeland. I have subsided off of a lentil-heavy, poverty-inspired diet over the past few months in New York.  But as soon as my feet touch the ground and are accessible to a boulangerie, there is no turning back.  But this time around, there was a bit of a change…

C, Monsieur Meat & Potatoes himself, recently picked up on the organic, pro-veg trend.  Halleluiah, I say!  I am not a vegetarian, but I strive to be.  A presque-etarian, if you will.  But there were countless dinners for C where I would shellac, layer, and roast vegetables in all their seasonal glory only to hear post-dinner about his need for meat.  The ultimate expression of his transformation was when he suggested we try out a macrobiotic restaurant, which was recommended to him by a friend.   Now I don’t know much about macrobiotics, but I do know it’s crunchy and something Gwenyth discusses in Instyle Magazine.  From the limited menu, we both ordered the veggie bowl.  It arrived as a sephia color wheel of lentils, vegetable porridge, seaweeds, and grain cakes.  Sadly, it lacked texture and all the color and life that make vegetables so exciting for me to prepare and enjoy.  C so generously spooned most of his dinner onto my plate and I knew that this dinner’s final destination would be McDonald’s.  Sure enough, we wrapped up the evening sitting side-by-side as I enviously watched him happily eating his McNuggets wishing I hadn’t filled up on millet cake.  Nevertheless, we are taking small steps towards culinary compatibility!