Posts tagged ‘eggs’

The Good. Food. Stories. team is extra-pleased to present today’s guest post from Jessie Knadler, a former Manhattan magazine writer and editor who now lives in rural Virginia with her husband, 30-odd chickens, two rambunctious dogs, and a host of farm equipment. Her adventures as a city girl attempting country living are chronicled on her “awesome blog” (her words and our feelings exactly) Rurally Screwed. We’re eagerly awaiting her canning-focused cookbook with co-author Kelly Geary that will be published by Rodale in Spring 2011.

When I first moved from Manhattan to rural Virginia four years ago, I assumed I was saying goodbye to the foodie fascism that had taken hold of the city. I took it as a given I’d never have to overhear two Brooklyn yoga moms prattle on about the virtues of free-range eggs for little Dexter and Elliot or listen to well-meaning friends pester waiters with questions like, “Is this beef really grass-fed?” I was fed up with thinking I too had to define myself by what I ate.

If only I was a little more organic, a little more free-range, steel-cut, Meyer lemon-eating, blah-blah-blah, I’d somehow be a better person. To me, the pursuit of dietary asceticism seemed like just another form of subtle social stratification, right up there with carrying the right handbag, only somehow less shallow, more “real.”

So I was excited at the prospect of moving somewhere where people, I assumed, still ate Slim Jims and where cocktail party food centered around Philadelphia cream cheese in various guises. I thought the most probing food question I’d encounter here was “Does the chicken fried steak come with brown or white gravy?”

Well, this is what happens when a pampered urbanite moves to the middle of nowhere—you quickly realize how provincial and ignorant you really are. Organic piety, I’ve since realized, extends to small-town America as well, to conservative communities where the rebel flag still proudly flies and where 30-somethings don’t think much about living in a cabin or a yurt.
>> Read on to find out about Jessie’s experiences in small-town food snobbery and how she’s fighting back >>

Deviled eggs, like cupcakes, house-made charcuterie, and hard cider, are having their moment, and I can’t say I’m sorry to see this trend everywhere I eat. God knows I can’t resist one, whether it’s topped with candied bacon, filled with radishes and caviar, or just on its own as a good old throwback appetizer.

However, I don’t think that even somewhere as painfully hip as The Spotted Pig has ever thought to update its bar menu with one of the more colorful components of a well-dressed Pennsylvania buffet: the pickled beet egg.

Part of the Pennsylvania Dutch influence on the state’s potluck food traditions, the vibrantly gorgeous eggs have long been a popular PA bar snack, deli item, and complement to the Easter or Christmas ham. Bobbing in their ruby brine, the eggs take on a twangy, slightly sweet flavor that offsets the richness of the yolk and gives some much-needed punch to the typically bland egg white. Like Mallo Cups and city chicken, the eggs are something I grew up loving and was shocked to learn at a relatively late age that the rest of the world was relatively unaware of their charms.

I’ve tweaked a recent Gourmet recipe to gussy up the traditional deviled egg appetizer that you hipster hostesses are finding it so fun to serve these days. For everyday eats, dice and mash the fuchsia orbs into a tangy egg salad with a few leaves of romaine on thick sourdough bread.

Pickled Deviled Eggs

• 1 dozen large peeled hard-boiled eggs*
• 1 quart water
• 1 cup distilled white vinegar
• 1 large beet, peeled and cut into wedges
• 1 small shallot, sliced
• 1 1/2 tsp sugar
• 1 bay leaf
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise
• 1 tbsp Dijon mustard
• 1 scallion, sliced into paper-thin rounds
• hot sauce to taste

*To hard-boil eggs, place eggs in a stockpot with enough cold water to cover the eggs by 2 inches, and bring to a boil with the lid on. As soon as the water boils, remove the pot from the heat and keep covered for 9 minutes. While the 9 minutes are passing, get an ice water bath ready. Drain the eggs, shake gently but firmly in the empty pot to crack the shells, and place in the ice bath for 5 minutes before peeling. The end.

To make the beet brine, combine the water, vinegar, beet wedges, shallot slices, sugar, and bay leaf in a large saucepan and simmer, covered, for 20-30 minutes or until the beets are fork-tender. Transfer to a large jar and cool completely.

Add the eggs to the room-temperature beet brine and refrigerate for at least 2 days. The pink color will slowly penetrate the egg white for a uniformly brilliant color right up to the yolk.

They can be served as is, or if you want to make them deviled, slice and remove the yolks from each egg half, and mash the yolks thoroughly with the mayo, mustard, scallion, and hot sauce.

You’ll never starve as long as you’ve got an egg in the house—Evalina Scariati Pullano (aka Nana)

Growing up, I spent a lot of time in both the kitchen and garden with my grandparents. Nana and Papa grew piles of zucchini and used each and every one of them along with their flowers. I’m told by family that as a baby, my favorite food was zucchini and eggs. Mushy and nutritious—perfect baby food!

During a great rash of stolen lunches at Liberty Elementary, zucchini and eggs came to my rescue. I called home, delivered the news that I was lunch-less, and Nana whipped up a rush order, put it between two big pieces of crusty bread, and sent my Uncle Sonny tearing down the road to deliver it to me in a giant brown grocery bag. I sat down at a lunch table and happily unwrapped my sandwich while the other kids looked on at me like I was Andrew Zimmern.

“EEEEW,” one of them screamed. It did not bother me in the least. In fact, I felt pity for her and her peanut butter and jelly on Wonder.

Today, my own fridge is brimming with zucchini from my CSA share and I’ve been having zucchini and eggs at least 3 times a week. You can eat it for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Here’s how I do it.

• Slice your medium sized zucchini in half, then cut those in half, and slice little triangles. If the center is too seedy, simple run your knife below the seedy part and remove it first.
• Add a splash of olive oil, turn on your pan, and throw in a pinch of red pepper flakes. (I prefer Calabrian pepper but you do your thing.)
• Saute the zucchini triangles (aren’t they cute?) until they start to caramelize. Sprinkle a little kosher salt on them. Remove from pan and lower the heat.
• DON’T YOU DARE clean the pan. Keep the heat on low and throw in about a tablespoon of butter. (I like salted, whipped butter, but again..this is simple stuff so make do with what’s in your fridge.)
• Add 2-3 scrambled eggs, let them set for about 30 seconds.
• Add the zucchini back in with the eggs and move them around with your spatula for another minute or so, just until the egg sets.

• Finally, add a quarter of a cup of grated parmigiano reggiano or pecorino romano cheese. Your choice. The pecorino is sheep’s milk cheese and a little easier on the lactose intolerant gizzards.

Serve on two slices of toasted French or Italian bread. (And don’t be afraid to butter the bread first.) It’s damn good on challah bread, too.