Magic Eggs

There is magic in early childhood. Given the proper chance, it's a time when a child can know with certainty that the woods are full of underground creatures called gnomes, that ash trees growing together by the side of a trail are indeed a fairy house that can be climbed into, that sand and mud can be pushed into mountains with endless vistas into another domain. 
 
Young children see the world with such wonder. Even the smallest discoveries are huge and thrilling. To be reminded of how interesting the world really is -- that's one of the best side benefits of spending time with a small human. Since I live with a four-year-old, I'm a lucky person to be around that kind of excitement and magic daily (though admittedly between some rough patches typical of this age).

When I was thinking about this today, I wondered if Kingston's worldview has rubbed off on me a little. This is because I realized that I have developed a tendency to call many things "magic" or "magical," things which in adult eyes would seem utterly banal.

Somehow, for instance, I have started calling our dog "Magic Dog." He has taken to coming into Kingston's room with us to do the bedtime routine each night. If he doesn't, I find myself saying, "Come, Magic Dog! Time for bed!" He usually obeys and pads in after us.

If I had to tell you what is actually magical about our dog, well, I'm not exactly sure what that would be. He doesn't fly. He doesn't glow in the dark. He doesn't grant wishes. Maybe the fact that he is constant in his gentle mood and ever-loving toward us is magic enough. 

Even scrambled eggs have become magical in our house. It began by necessity. Kingston would only ever eat egg whites and not the yolk. Initially I saved them for other things, but there are only so many recipes for using up yolks. In my wiliness, I realized that if I called the eggs I cooked "magic," Kingston might actually eat them in their entirety, yolks and all. 

It's not just in the name, though. While these eggs may appear to be unexceptional, they are anything but that. The first time I made them, I turned to Marc as we sat down to breakfast and said, "These eggs are magical." He nodded in agreement, as he silently shoved another forkful into his mouth. I had cooked them with leftover Ethiopian spiced butter, or nit'er kibbeh, based on a version from Marcus Samuelsson. Originally, I had made the butter as I was getting ready to cook the Ethiopian chicken stew, Doro Wat (nit'er kibbeh is an essential flavoring ingredient for the dish).

The basic idea with nit'er kibbeh is to infuse flavors into unsalted butter by simmering the butter with onion and spices typical to Ethiopian cuisine, including turmeric, cumin and fenugreek. By the end of the simmer, you essentially have clarified butter with a beguiling aroma that provides additional layers of flavors to whatever you are cooking, be it a chicken stew, or in this case, scrambled eggs. Ni'ter kibbeh is worth making and having on hand for when you want to add a little magic to almost any dish. 

Magic Eggs
For these eggs, use a gentle hand, cooking on medium-low to low, and they will be magically irresistable to anyone, including a four-year-old.

Serves 1-2. Nit'er Kibbeh slightly adapted from Marcus Samuelsson.

Ingredients
For the nit'er kibbeh:
8 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick), cut into pieces
1 onion, coarsely chopped
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 cinnamon stick
2 garlic cloves, peeled
2-inch piece of peeled fresh ginger
sprig or two of rosemary

To cook the dish:
3 eggs, preferably organic
1 1/2 to 2 tablespoons Ethiopian spiced butter
salt

Instructions
First, make the spiced butter. Place butter, onion, turmeric, cinnamon stick, garlic, ginger and rosemary in a small saucepan. Turn heat to low. Slowly melt butter, then simmer very gently for 30 minutes. Do not allow the milk solids to brown. Let the butter sit for 5 to 10 minutes to allow the solids to settle to the bottom. Pour butter through a piece of cheesecloth or fine sieve to remove most of the solids. This is your ni'ter kibbeh for cooking the eggs.

Whisk eggs until well beaten. Place an 8-inch skillet over medium-low heat and then add the butter. Allow butter to melt then pour in the eggs. Allow the eggs to begin slightly setting then use a spatula to stir and scrape eggs from the middle. I like to sprinkle a small pinch of salt over the eggs at this point. 

Jiggle the pan so that the still-liquid egg from the other edges flows toward the middle. Cook for another minute or two. Scrape eggs and flip. Continue doing this until the eggs are cooked to your liking. I prefer my eggs quite soft, almost runny. Remember, they will still continue cooking after you turn off the heat. Serve garnished with some chopped herbs. Toast, which some would consider magical all on its own, is a worthy accompaniment.

Teff and Coconut Waffles

Since I got my hands on Kim Boyce's Good to the Grain a few years back, I've been interested in using wheat-alternative grains and flours. But it wasn't until last year that I really started playing around with a wider variety of them.

See, a good friend of mine was coming up to visit us from California. Briana is the world's best pediatric occupational therapist (OT), a person who is always smiling and shining her light out onto the world. I had the opportunity to work with her and learn so much about helping traumatized children with sensory issues.  

She was also diagnosed with MS several years ago. When Bri told me she and her family were coming to visit, we talked about her health. She told me that cutting gluten out of her diet was helping her to feel significantly better on a day-to-day basis.

They were going to be with us for a few days and I wanted Bri to feel good while she was with us. So, I started to do some deeper exploring.

With further guidance mostly from Alice Medrich, I baked enough to feed the neighborhood using alternatives such as rice and oat flour, teff, buckwheat and sorghum. I handed out "extra" scones, cookies, cakes and biscuits to those willing to take them. 

One grain I came across during my exploring and experimenting seemed especially interesting: teff. I recalled that it was used to make the spongy, fermented Ethiopian bread, injera. 

The grains are tiny, about the size of poppy seeds. Because they are so small, they are ground whole to make flour, keeping all the nutrition from the bran and germ intact. They are loaded with high amounts of calcium, vitamin C and amino acids, as described here. 

The teff flour I found locally was a light brownish-slate color and slightly gritty to the touch. But I soon found that when cooked whole, it could be made into a porridge resembling polenta. It could also be added to soups and stews as a thickener. 

While Bri was here with her husband and kids, we enjoyed lazy days at the lake, dangling our feet from the dock and into the cool water, chatting and catching up with one another.

We cooked and ate plenty too, including Pacific Northwest salmon and blackberries picked from around the neighborhood. I even made her a birthday cake (coconut flour) filled with plum jam. But I forgot about using the teff I had!

They're planning to come back next year, at which point I will pull the flour jar out of the freezer to make these waffles just for them. 

Teff and Coconut Waffles

This recipe, adapted from Alice Medrich, is free of both dairy and gluten. You might feel that it's a bit of work to separate the eggs and beat the whites separately. However, the fluffed up whites do give the waffles lightness that I find worth the effort. The shredded coconut adds texture, and the coconut oil provides crispness. If you prefer to use butter instead, go for it! I am a staunch member of the I Love Butter Club. Just make sure you eat these waffles while they are warm and crisp. That is when they are at their very best.

Makes 5 large waffles or 8 smaller ones.

Ingredients
1 cup teff flour
1/4 cup dried, shredded coconut (unsweetened)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 large eggs, separated and at room temperature
1 cup warm coconut milk (or, substitute whole milk or other milk of your choice)
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar
2 tablespoons coconut sugar (or, substitute brown sugar)

Instructions
Preheat oven to 200°. Prepare a baking sheet and set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together teff flour, coconut, baking powder and salt. Add the two egg yolks and milk, stirring together until combined and no flour lumps remain.

In a clean, dry mixing bowl place egg whites and cream of tartar. Beat until egg whites start to form soft peaks. Sprinkle in the sugar and continue beating until the sugar is incorporated and the whites just start to form stiff peaks but are not dry.

Fold egg whites into flour mixture, using a light touch, until just combined.

Pour batter into waffle iron and cook according to the manufacturer's instructions. Place waffles on baking sheet and keep warm in the oven as you cook the remaining batter. 

Serve warm with the topping of your choice. We're plain sorts around here when it comes to waffles. Or, call us purists, as our household preference is for a generous pour of maple syrup. 

My Bird's Nest Soup

Chris and Aslan, two of the very capable guys from Flying Colors Painting Company came by our house recently to pressure wash and paint the exterior. We shut all of our windows, as (sensibly) instructed. Then the wet, noisy process began.  

I have to admit, it was exciting, especially for our family's younger set, who stood patiently by each window watching, moving to the next suitable viewing point as the areas of washing shifted and water cascaded down around us.  

Since our house is adjacent to the woods, we end up with a lot of dampness and dirt, moss and leaves over the whole structure. Because of where it sits, our house (and yard) is the perfect receptacle for catching all the stuff that gets blown about and out of the woods. After many years of going without, the washing was much needed.

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The other thing that happens due to our location is that certain animals, birds especially, seem to view our house as an extension of the woods. This means that in the Spring, all sorts of interesting activities start up around us.

This year, a pileated woodpecker appeared (again), hammering away at a metal vent high on the east side of our house. The noise echoed loudly enough to set my back teeth on edge. This went on for what seemed like weeks. Bunnies hopped out past the rhododendron and onto our lawn. The deer -- well, if you've been reading this blog, you've already heard plenty about them.

For me, though, the most interesting visitors this year were the pair of robins who settled under one of the eaves out front. We watched them every day after they first arrived. They were so busy gathering twigs and bits of soft, sphagnum moss from the lawn that they didn't even notice us at first. 

I admired their work ethic and drive to protect the nest. My son and I would quietly lean over the edge of the porch together to examine its changes each day. The nest was beautiful in a fecund sort of way and surprisingly large, with wisps of light green hanging down from it.  It looked like something out of a children's book.

The hatchlings arrived and quickly became strong enough to fly off. Thankfully, the robins were done with the nest before the painters came.

After the pressure washing was done, the nest, which had been knocked out of the eave lay sideways and empty on the ground. Everything does have its time and season.

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My Bird's Nest Soup
When I was growing up in Chinatown, we would enjoy traditional bird's nest soup at wedding banquets. The authentic Chinese version is made from the spit of swallows, which lends the soup a viscous quality. Even as a child, I never found it (or the idea of it) either weird or disgusting. It was always just utterly delicious. This clean, simple and completely non-traditional version is my ode to Spring and our robin visitors. It makes a perfect light lunch or supper.

Serves 2.

Ingredients
1-8.8 ounce package of angel hair nests
6 cups good-quality chicken or vegetable broth, preferably homemade
1/3 of a bunch of fresh spinach, leaves wash and torn into pieces
2 very fresh, large eggs
1 teaspoon vinegar

Sesame oil for drizzling
Cilantro, parsley, basil or other soft-stemmed herbs, chopped
Fresh pepper and salt

Instructions
Place broth in a medium pot over medium heat. Once the broth comes to a simmer, turn to low to keep it hot. Taste for seasoning. If the broth is homemade you may need to adjust for salt.

Split the torn leaves between two wide soup bowls, placing them at the bottom. Set aside.

Bring a medium pot of water to boil. Salt water generously. Add two angel hair nests and cook according to package directions (mine were Delverde brand and took 3 minutes). Don't break up the nest shapes. They will cook through even undisturbed.

Bring another medium pot of water to boil. Add vinegar. Crack one egg at a time, placing eggs into separate ramekins or small cups. Using a wooden spoon, stir the water to create a vortex motion and slip one egg at a time into the water whites first.  Cook for three minutes. With a large metal spoon, scoop each egg out one at a time, cutting off loose strands of white with the edge of the spoon. Place one egg on top of each angel's hair nest.

Ladle hot broth along the sides of the bowl, making sure to cover the spinach and part of the pasta nest. The heat of the broth is sufficient to wilt the leaves.

Drizzle with sesame oil and garnish with fresh herbs and pepper.

Coin Purse Eggs...Hello Spring!

Winters here in Western Washington can sure feel long. By the end of February, the consistently dark and wet days begin to feel like they will never end. You wake up with your house solidly encased in darkness, turn all the lights on (for mental health reasons) and before you know it, your afternoon goes from murky dampness to pure blackness once again. And it’s not even anywhere near dinner time yet.

Lately, our still drizzly days have been punctuated here and there by an actual sunny day. That’s when you’ll find us running outside dressed in tee shirts and shorts. Who cares if it’s still a bit cold out? Who even notices that we are blinding one another with the full moon glow of our winter skin?

We tilt our faces up to the sky, grateful for the light. We greet our friends, whom we haven’t seen since we traded cookies and jars of hot fudge in December, with hugs and say things like, “You made it through the dark months!”

Hello Spring. You are here!

For me, Spring is about fresh eggs. Not those bland ones from the supermarket that we dye for Easter. I’m talking about rich, Omega-laden yolks like the ones local pastured hens have been busy laying now that there is more light each day (Did you know, chickens need about 14 hours of daylight to be able to lay consistently?).

Eggs make me think of my little Chinese mom who raised six hungry kids by herself with a simple dish of steamed white rice and coin purse eggs. We ate a lot of this stuff. It was filling and cheap but still felt special. After all, each “coin purse” contained the promise of wealth and prosperity.

Fresh Eggs From My Brother's Hens

Before you start on the eggs, make sure you already have a pot of cooked rice done. Long-grain is good. So is medium-grain brown. Today we made haiga, a Japanese type which is almost white but not quite brown rice. The bran has been removed, but the germ still remains. It's an in-between thing. Anyway...

It’s time to start your eggs.  

You’ll be cooking one egg at a time, but the whole process goes pretty quickly. You'll be eating very, very soon. I promise.  

Heat two tablespoons or so of oil of your choice (I like sunflower or peanut) in the bottom of curved cooking vessel – like a wok, for instance. Make sure it’s good and hot. This is important!

Take one fresh egg (now’s definitely the time to splurge on organic, farm fresh) and crack it into your little pool of heated oil. Alternatively, you can place your egg in a bowl or cup and then slide it in. But we live on the edge around here. Crack it right in, I say!

Once it goes it, it will sizzle and pop in a most satisfying way. The white should puff up and start to set around the edges. I like to tip the pan to one side to encourage the white to stretch a bit toward one side. This will make it easier to fold.

At this point, swirling the oil a bit around the whole egg is good too. The bottom will start to become crispy and develop brown spots. The yolk will still be wiggly with some uncooked white immediately around it.

It’s been about a minute-and-a-half now. Take your spatula and carefully work it under one side of the egg.

Gently fold the white over the yolk so that it comes together with the opposite edge of white. Introduce them. Let the edges be friends.

This next part might get a little tricky, especially if you are cooking on a flat surface. You might need to tilt the pan a bit and try to nestle the egg into the curved inner part. You will need to hold your spatula for a few moments keep the egg used to its new position. It will quickly set.

When you let go, you’ll see that you’ve made a chubby purse-shaped package with a delicious yolky “coin” inside. So cute. It wiggles when you touch it.   

The proper way to eat it?

Scoop some rice into a bowl. Gently lay your egg on top. Add a splash of soy sauce and a sprinkling of green onions. Shower it with some sesame seeds and it's practically fancy. Poke the soft yolk and let it run down into the hot rice. Mix this rich, sunshine-y concoction up with your chopsticks then savor each bite.

Here’s to sunny days ahead! Enjoy!

Note: If you have some greens lying around in your veggie bin (Radish greens are great – we don’t like to waste anything around here), go ahead and sauté them with a little garlic and oil. Add that to your bowl and you will have a beyond satisfying meal.