Breakfast #48: Eggs in Anchovy-Butter

I have a cousin who needs to travel a lot for work.  Many times all around Europe.  He will try to make you think that it is tiring and oh-what-a-drudgery flying hither and thither is, but I know better.  The fantastic meals of which he partakes and the gastro-bounty he brings back tell another tale.  Since he is a grumbler by nature his bah-humbugs are a common refrain that is easy for me to ignore…especially when he drops little treasures my way (lardo, pancetta, and guanciale…oh my!).

One such wondrous dish he had (in Milan if you were wondering), whose photo is still emblazoned in my memory, was a small silver pot cradling eggs cooked in butter and bottarga.  Just three ingredients but the idea of it, especially for someone like me who already thinks eggs are sublime on their own, was making me lose sleep.

Bottarga here comes at quite a pretty price tag though, and I am never sure just how fresh those vacuum sealed packs are.  So, what is a girl to do?

This.

Eggs in Anchovy-Butter

• 1 ½ -2 tablespoons butter (this depends on how decadent you are feeling – I would err on the side of generous)
• 1 – 1 ½ fillets of anchovy, chopped
• 2 eggs, the best you can find and afford

- Melt the butter in a small non-stick skillet (ideally one that a good snug fit for the eggs).  Wait until the butter froths and the froth then subsides.

- Add the anchovy.  It will spit and sputter like mad so be ready and stand back!  Lift the pan off the fire for a bit if things get too wild.  Using a non-slotted, flat turner smash the anchovy up, smashing and swirling until the butter turns a rusty bronze.

- Add the egg to the anchovy butter.  As soon as the whites set a bit swirl the pan around and with the turner swish and flick the anchovy butter onto the top of the egg.

- As soon as the egg is done to your liking (I recommend a runny yolk…always) slide the egg and anchovy butter onto a shallow bowl.  Enjoy immediately!

Ok.  Bottarga-butter-eggs purist: don’t get your knickers in a knot.  I am not claiming that this has anywhere near the soul-transforming powers that the original dish has.  And it certainly isn't as pretty.  I'm proud of my little ghetto version nevertheless.  Though it may not be near the realm of the original bottarga + silver pot version, it has a gritty decadence all its own.  Everything you need can be bought in any supermarket…even the small cheapy non-stick skillet!

I like to eat this in a shallow bowl, immediately puncturing the egg yolks and eating the mess half-spooned, half-sopped up, with a good slice of bread.  If you live in the Philippines I have to add that this is amazing with a piece (or two) of hot pan de sal.  Use as much butter as you feel is decent to have in one meal…if that meal is breakfast then you are totally justified using as much as you want (you are starting your day after all).  I have indicated 1 – 1 ½ fillets of anchovy here but this really depends on your anchovies and your own taste…you can always add more if you’d like it to be saltier.

I must go pack now as we are off this weekend, leaving in an hour.  Not any place fancy, no silver pots or fancy meals, but good food nonetheless and even better company.  And the beach, and a boat – those are nice too :)  Wishing you a great weekend, a happy Halloween, and fabulous breakfasts - ghetto or otherwise!

Incredible Baked Lamb Shanks

Although I fell in love with cooking all by myself, far away from home, where I had no choice but to learn how to feed myself or starve, I draw inspiration from many people.  Some I have never met, some I have known all my life.  My great-aunt R falls into the latter category.  She’s my grandmother’s younger sister and has a long and colorful history of great cooking.

As a child, she taught me how to make pineapple upside down cake and apple pie.  When I was older, she demystified the workings of callos and bacalao ala Vizcaina.  Like most cooks of the generation before my parents, she uses no exact measurements or hard-and-fast recipes (except when baking of course…she was a well-accomplished baker in her heyday!).  To learn anything, I had to sit patiently and listen carefully, asking the right questions lest I end up with a whole pig’s leg in my tiny kitchen (“make sure you see the hoof!”).

These days, she is happy letting others do the cooking for her most of the time, despite her souped-up kitchen (which C and I look upon with admiration and envy).  We dine out (she loves swanky French food) or in (she also loves C’s sinigang), and always have a grand time (if you get her, my grandmother, and their other sister together the stories will floor you, as will the good-natured, though at times high-octane, teasing).

Another thing she enjoys nowadays is gifting C and I with food.  The lamb shanks I used here were from her.

Incredible Baked Lamb Shanks

(adapted from Incredible Baked Lamb Shanks in Jamie Oliver's Cook With Jamie)

• 2 lamb shanks
• 75-80 grams butter, cold but malleable
• 4 sprigs fresh rosemary
• 10 fresh sage leaves
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 6 cloves garlic, unpeeled
• 1 large carrot, peeled and finely sliced
• 1 white onion, peeled and sliced into half moons
• 2 leeks, sliced (note that I am using the local leeks which are much smaller that the huge Western hemisphere varieties)
• About a wineglass of red wine

- Set aside 2 sprigs of rosemary and 4 sage leaves.  Pick the leaves of the rest of the rosemary and thyme and chop.  Chop the remaining sage leaves as well.  Mix the chopped herbs with the butter.  You can alternately whiz everything together in the food processor.  Season with salt and pepper.  I like to season this until it is just above your usual level of saltiness as you will be spreading this all over the lamb and it will get diluted by the wine and vegetables.

- Using a small knife, take one of the lamb shanks and cut between the meat and the bone from the base of the shank upwards.  You want to make a hole big enough to put your finger in.  Repeat with the other shank.

- Divide the herb butter between the “pockets” you have cut at the base of your shanks, pushing it all the way in.  Rub the remaining butter all over the shanks themselves.

- Tear off 2 arm-length pieces of foil and fold each in half to give you 2 large pieces of double-layer foil.  Divide the garlic and vegetables between the 2 pieces of foil.  Lay each shank on each pile of veg, crack some black pepper over that and another light sprinkling of sea salt, then top with the extra rosemary and sage.  This is how it will look.

- Carefully pull up the sides of the foil and then pour a swig of wine in each parcel.  Gather foil around each shank and seal shut making sure they are closed tightly. 

- Arrange the parcels in a baking pan and place in a pre-heated 375F oven for 3-3.5 hours or until lamb is very tender.

- You can serve the parcels directly so each person can open their own serving, or transfer everything into a serving dish making sure not to lose any of the buttery juices!

Yet another recipe from Jamie Oliver’s Cook WithJamie.  If you were to say that I am totally enamored by this book you would be absolutely right.  Honest, delicious, earthy cooking…and these lamb shanks are a perfect example.  I’ve changed the quantities, as well as the cooking temperature and time, but essentially the method remains the same.  And what a method it is!  These were some of the softest shanks that ever came out of my oven.  Wrapping the meat and all the aromatics in foil (and see to it that it’s tightly sealed please!) creates a little steam bath that keeps the meat moist and flavorful, and renders it sinuously pliant.  The lamb ends up soft and sticky, drenched in intensely flavored buttery juices.  I plan to try this using other flavor combinations as well.

Aside from the gifts of lamb shanks, we have also received slabs of steak, Campbell’s soup, fresh apples and pears, olives, duck confit, little cans of mandarin oranges packed in syrup, beef ribs cut for kalbi, and rotisserie chicken.  Once she appeared on our doorstep with a whole leg of lamb!  I think it’s sufficient to say that we love my great-aunt R’s generous, if sometimes random, care packages.  Almost as much as we love her.

Family, and those you choose to be your family, are pretty special in my book.  Give someone in your family a hug this weekend! :)

Oxtail Stew

What a wringer of a week it’s been! And not a wringer in a super-busy-but-achieving-a-lot kind of way, but wringer in the putting-out-forest-fires way. It was the type of week where you feel you need a bazooka to trouble-“shoot” and a stiff drink at the end of each day. The type when you feel like it’s been a dozen days already, but realize “it’s only Tuesday??”. That very type. Unless you were born under a frightfully lucky star (in which case, pat-pat, good for you), you know this type too.

But this is not about what I had to muck through this week.

This is about a night I stood on my balcony, in the dark wee hours, feeling as I described above. I looked up at the almost starless sky, and around at the dark windows of my neighbors, compass-askew and bereft, and…just…let go. This is, by and large, a non-denominational blog, and I don’t usually talk about religion (or politics) here. But I do believe in something greater than myself, greater than us all. I believe that This Greatness is beyond anything we could ever imagine, and yet is so familiar in a very primal way. I don’t, however, think about this every day, nor do I talk about it overly much. That night though, I reached out across that dark night and called for Him.

This is also about the very next morning, when I got a phone call from someone sharing incredible news. Unconnected incidents…yet so connected. How I sat dumbstruck, almost disbelieving. And I could hear a voice in my head saying, “You’re dealing with A Professional, kid, and don’t you forget it.”

This doesn’t quite have anything to do with oxtail stew except that it’s an incredibly comforting dish and slow cooking, in and of itself, helps me to de-stress. So I’d like to share it with you…a small offering in gratitude for life’s Greatness.

Oxtail Stew
(adapted from Gnocchi with braised oxtail in Jaime Oliver's Cook With Jamie)

• Olive oil
• 1 – 1.5 kilo oxtail, cut in chunks
• 1 stick of celery, finely chopped
• 1 large white onion, peeled and finely chopped
• 1 carrot, peeled and finely chopped
• 1 leek, trimmed and finely chopped
• About 1/3 of a 750ml bottle of red wine
• 2 teaspoons fennel seeds, crushed
• 2 teaspoons juniper berries, crushed
• 1 cinnamon stick
• Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
• 1 400-gram can chopped tomato
• 1 tablespoon fresh oregano leaves
• A handful of fresh sage leaves
• A knob of butter

- Heat a heavy-bottomed oven-proof sauce pan or pot and add a couple of glugs of olive oil. When the oil is hot add your oxtail and brown on all sides. Add the celery, onion, carrot, and leek. Cook this gently until everything is soft and the onions are a touch golden.
- When the vegetables are soft, add the wine. Let this bubble for a bit, scraping up any stuck bits. Add the crushed spices, cinnamon, tomato paste, and chopped tomatoes. Top up with a little water until oxtail are just covered. Stir everything together, make sure the oxtail is in one layer, cover the pot, and place in a 300F pre-heated oven. Cook for 4 – 4 1/2 hours or until meat is soft and falling off the bones, checking on it occasionally to stir things around and make sure it’s not sticking to the bottom or getting too dry.
- When the meat has reached your desired degree of softness, add the oregano and simmer on the stovetop for about 15 minutes.
- Meanwhile, melt butter in a pan. When bubbles have subsided, fry the sage leaves in the butter until they are dark green and crispy. Drain on paper towels.
- Serve the oxtail stew topped with the fried sage leaves.

I love Jamie Oliver, and think him a genius, plus adorable to boot. This dish is a perfect example of what he is good at. Homey, hearty, real-life, grandmother-y sort of sustenance. It nourishes as well as comforts. In the original version the oxtail meat is taken off the bone and shredded, and used as a chunky sauce for gnocchi (I know, brilliant and must be tried someday!). It also uses a whole oxtail, of which I had no access, so I adjusted the quantities to suit a lesser amount. I suggest whizzing the fennel and juniper in a coffee grinder – I used my mortar and pestle and still came across some bumps in my stew. The overall flavor is awesome, what with the fennel and juniper and cinnamon and oregano and sage, and the oxtail just melts into soft and sticky chunks. Be sure to cook it gently for as long as it takes to get really tender. Be patient, it is worth it. C and I loved it, and I am happy to report that little C loved it as well. I did shred the leftovers and had it with linguine and a generous grating of pecorino --- I think I may just make another batch solely for this purpose.

The weekend is finally (finally!) here. It’s an incredibly sunny day, after weeks of typhoons and grey skies. The skies today are bright blue and my little tadpole has graduated to one less floater in swim class. We are going Halloween costume and pajama shopping and, hopefully, on a hunt for some cookware. I’ve got a new pair of fabulous 5-inch wedges from my favorite boy in the world (that’s C in case you're wondering ;)). Relaxing plans with family and, right after posting this, a glorious nap. That’s not to say that storms won't come again. They will I know…and sometimes with such fervor you will get the wind knocked out of you. But Greatness is always there to hang on to when things get rough. It’s all around actually. And sometimes, it also knocks the wind out of you…in a good way :)

Breakfast #47: Baked Oatmeal

We have just come from two back to back typhoons. One being worse than the other, although both very bad for those in their ferocious paths. Here in my corner the city, rains pounded the pavement outside my window and obscured my view of the buildings further away. The water was coming down at a crazy slant and the wind was a thing unleashed, whipping what little trees we have in a wild frenzy.

But I was just side-swiped by these typhoons’ tails and trains, sitting dry in my flat and watching the world get soaked from outside my window. The worst of it are those who are hit head on…that means floods, landslides, and all manner of misfortune related to these. And when one storm follows another, even a weaker storm, it means that the floods don’t have time to abate before being stirred up again. Not good.

What is good though is how quickly everyone comes together for drives to help those affected by these natural calamities. It is heartening to know, despite what cynics may say, that people still help each other out, that simple kindness is not going out of style, and that we humans really do care something for each other.

On rainy mornings I take comfort in that. And in this.

Baked Oatmeal
(slightly adapted from Baked Oatmeal in Super Natural Every Day by Heidi Swanson)

• 2 cups oats
• 1/3 cup walnuts, toasted and chopped
• 1/3 cup dark muscovado sugar
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 scant teaspoon cinnamon
• Scant 1/2 teaspoon fine grain sea salt
• 2 cups milk
• 1 large egg
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
• 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
• 2 ripe bananas, sliced into about 1 cm pieces
• 1 1/2 cup blueberries

- Mix together oats, half the walnuts, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt in a bowl. In a separate bowl whisk together the milk, egg, half the butter, and vanilla.
- Arrange the banana slices on the bottom of a well-buttered 8-inch square baking dish. Sprinkle 2/3 for the blueberries on top. Pour the oat mixture evenly over the fruit and pour the milk carefully over that. Make sure the oats are evenly coated in and around by the milk. Shake the dish a bit and gently tap on the counter to make sure the milk has reached through all the oats. Top with the remaining blueberries and walnuts.
- Bake in a pre-heated 375F oven for 35-45 minutes or until set and golden brown. When done, remove from the oven and let this cool for a bit. Brush with the remaining melted butter and serve. If you want it a bit sweeter you can add a bit more sugar, maple syrup, or honey to your serving.

This is another wonderful recipe from Heidi Swanson’s Super Natural Every Day. Let me tell you, I am simply enamored of this book. It is just bursting at the seams with good things. This particular good thing is heaven warm out of the oven on a gloomy rain-drenched morning, especially if you have mountain of work to get through. It is filling and fortifying and delicious to boot. Also, it will easily keep you full until lunch. I have to add that while this is lovely served fresh and warm, I also love it straight from the fridge the next day. Cold and stodgy (in a good way!), and creamy in a way it can only get when chilled. And for a morning when I need extra fortification I’ll top a slice with a dollop of Greek yogurt, a sprinkling of homemade granola, and a drizzle of honey. The granola may seem redundant but it actually provides a fantastic contrast of textures.

The weather is better now, albeit a bit moody – you have sunny mornings that are washed away by rainy afternoons or vice versa. No matter what the weather though, I am grateful for life’s silver linings. Whether it be lending a hand (and doing some spring cleaning while at it) or burying my spoon into this :)