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Archive for the ‘Eggs’ Category

You know how you start the weekend off with a bang?

Pizza.

For breakfast.

No, not that cold, congealed stuff–though that has a special place in my drunken little heart, too.

Real pizza.  Hot pizza.

“It’s pizza.

For breakfast.”

Couldn’t you just see a commercial or a full page magazine ad like that?  There’s also:

“Pizza.  That was easy.”

Oh, wait.  Staples already did that.  How about:

“Pizza for breakfast?  Way radical!” with a picture of a spiky-haired kid skateboarding past, grabbing the pizza out of his mom’s hands while she wears a half-shocked, half-bemused expression.

Nah.  Too nineties.  We could do:

“Rich.  Satisfying.  Smooth.  Pizza.”

Nope.  Sounds like a pizza-flavored cigarette.  Oh, oh, I know:

“Same great taste.  Now for breakfast!”

Didn’t McDonald’s do something like that?  Like, when they tried to market something that looked like a quadruple-pounder with cheese and three buns as a great way to start the morning?

But let’s get real.  The point of this post isn’t how to create a pizza advertisement.  It’s how to make a damn fine pizza.

“For breakfast.”

Last weekend I wanted to surprise The Boy with something special on Saturday morning.

You know.  Aside from the usual something special.

Since he’s a fiend for my homemade pizza–on the stone, but of course–I figured that was the way to do it.  You know, keep the spontaneity alive.  Well, it would’ve kept the spontaneity alive, except halfway through our movie on Friday night I lunged for the remote, paused the DVD, turned to him, pressed my face right up against his, and went, “OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, GUESS WHAT, I’M MAKING PIZZA FOR BREAKFAST TOMORROW ANDAREN’TYOUSOEXCITED?!”

I never said I could keep a secret.

I usually use Chris Bianco’s recipe for pizza crust, which is excellent, to be sure.  But seeing as how I have a sourdough starter just lounging around, I used that instead.  WHICH WAS THE GREATEST IDEA EVER.  I didn’t measure.  Didn’t weigh.  Didn’t consult any recipes.  Just went with my gut.  And my gut told me to feed and proof the sourdough starter on the counter for 8 hours, then toss in enough flour, wheat germ, and salt to make a nice, soft dough.  Then my gut instructed me to knead the dough until it was firm and elastic-y, let it rise, punch it down, and let it rise again for another half hour.  Bingo–sourdough pizza dough.  And as we all know, sourdough bread makes THE BEST toast, and therefore is perfectly suited to tangy, crunchy-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside, makes you go “Mmmm” pizza.

“For breakfast.”

My gut is so smart.  And strangely specific.

Anyhow, I did all this during the afternoon on Friday.  Then I just stuck the dough in the refrigerator and prepped all the toppings so that the next morning would be effortless.  I don’t think I have to tell you how flexible pizza is, so just use whatever’s on hand, whatever appeals to you.  But in my case, I halved cherry tomatoes, snipped up a bunch of fresh sage, cooked and crumbled a few slices of applewood bacon, shredded some aged mozzarella, and painted my nails.  Oh, the nail thing was for me.  Not the pizza.  But I highly recommend it.

The next morning as I stumbled out of bed and zombied my way to the bathroom, I made a quick detour to put the oven on full blast at 500F degrees and take the dough out to rest on the counter.  About 45 minutes later, I dusted my pizza peel with cornmeal, stretched out my dough, and began piling it all on.

Mmm, piling it all on.

Ooh, this would be a good place to mention that I topped the pie with a raw egg carefully cracked on top.  I LOVE doing this.  When the pizza comes out the oven, the egg will be fully cooked with a still-runny yolk, so you can break it and spread it out all over the pizza.  Don’t give me that look, you know you want it.

Into the oven, on top of the pizza stone, it went and baked for about 8 minutes, with a brief run under the broil setting to give the cheese that…oh, you know, that golden, crusty, but still buttery and oeey-gooey quality.  When it came out, we indulged while emitting the most graphic “oohs” and “aahs,” probably causing our downstairs neighbor to think we had the other kind of Saturday morning surprise.  Nope.  Pizza.  Yum.  Of course, I had enough dough for two pies, which was one more than we could handle, so we flash froze the other one, already baked, and reheated it at 400F for dinner last night, which means it was:

Pizza.  For Breakfast.  For Dinner.

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You know, to watch a recession happening in New York is to watch a shit-show full of contradictions and neat little twists.  There are a variety of opinions on the topic–the alarmists, of course, wonder if this is the beginning of the end for New York (at least for the fun side of NYC-style decadence and excess).  Others claim that this is just what we needed–something to bring the i-bankers and heroin-chic fashionistas down a notch and restore New York to its former, more accessible blue-collar glory.  What does your Bad Mama Genny think, misfits?

Whatever, man.  I say it’s time to put your hard-earned cash back in your pockets, get trashed, and make a tortilla.

A SPANISH tortilla thingy, that is–not that flat corn flour thingy.  The thingy I’m talking about is five classic ingredients, all of them inexpensive:  eggs, salt, potatoes, onions, and oil.

Oh, right, THAT thingy.

“But wait!” you’re saying.

“Haven’t I seen that on the menu at fancy tapas bars?” you’re saying.

“About four 1-inch cubes speared on toothpicks?  For, like, 11 bucks?” you’re saying.

Yes, my friends, yes!  But don’t be foolish and fall for such…such…foolery!  For the price of said cubes, you can purchase the ingredients for your own tortilla AND enough liquid bravery to get you through the process!  And if it doesn’t work, said liquid bravery will ensure that you and your own The Boy or The Girl hit the sheets to console one another and wake up with foggy memories and enough of a mess in the kitchen to convince you that, yes, yes, we DID eat a tortilla last night, and it was flawlessly executed and fucking amazing!  We are awesome!  Guess we didn’t leave any leftovers!  Hey, what’s that smell?  Were we smoking last night?  Why are the curtains on fire?

So ANYWAY, The Boy and I have made the tortilla part of our own recession repertoire with fantastic results.  Really, the only thing keeping most people at bay with this recipe is ignorance as to how it’s done.  Fear not–it’s excruciatingly fun and easy, just like your BMG!

What?  Who said that?

Okay, so what isn’t easy is filtering out the passive-aggressiveness that so many fancy schmancy chefs deem necessary.  Go ahead.  Google “spanish tortilla.”  I’ll give you a moment.

See?  The average resulting link will start off by saying how the tortilla is a very individual dish and everyone makes it differently and there is no wrong way, blah blah blah.  Then when they’ve got you all high on the warm fuzzies they smack you in the face with a warning that if you use too little oil, or too much oil, or maybe cook it for 30 seconds too long, your tortilla will be a failure, you’ll lose all your money in the stock market, everyone will stop loving you, and then you’ll die alone.

Really now.  This is all just a tad.  too.  dramatic.

If you should happen to commit a mortal sin and break one of the tortilla commandments “they” swear by, will you go to tortilla hell?  No–it will be completely edible and probably nobody will notice (you ARE on your second bottle of homemade red wine…right?  RIGHT?!).  And anyway, tortilla purgatory can be quite pleasant.  All the cool people have been there.

So go on with your bad selves, misfits! Have a glass of wine!   Get over your fears!  Have a glass of wine!  Embrace the recession!  Have a glass of wine!  Celebrate the disintegration of your 401(K)! And then, have one hell of a tortilla!

…and another glass of wine.

Spanish Tortilla (Tortilla Española)

Ingredients:
8 eggs
1 tsp. salt, divided
2 large potatoes, very thinly sliced
1/2 onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup olive oil (oh, don’t have a heart attack, you won’t really use all of it)
We left ’em out this time, but I love to throw in a handful or two of chopped green olives…try it! It’s fun and all the cool kids are doing it!

Directions:
Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When it is sizzle-hot, drop your potato slices in. Stir them nearly constantly-you don’t want them brown at any point (just soft and cooked through). When they’re about 5 minutes short of done, add your onions to the skillet and season the whole thing with 1/2 tsp. of salt. When the onions are done and the potatoes are soft, turn off the heat.

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Crack the eggs into a bowl, whisk them lightly with the remaining 1/2 tsp. of salt, and use a slotted spoon to transfer the potatoes and onions from the oil to the egg mixture. Gently press the potatoes down to be mostly submerged in the egg mixture, and let it sit for about 15 minutes.

In the meantime, discard the leftover oil in the pan (or save for another use) and pour yourself a second glass of wine.  Okay, third.  Let’s have no secrets between us.

Wipe the pan with a paper towel to leave only a skim of oil.  Heat the pan over medium-high heat. When it’s hot, add the egg mixture, making sure the potatoes and onions are evenly distributed throughout.

Using a spatula, check the bottom every now and then. You want it to be fluffy and golden, but still light, with the top of the tortilla still very liquidy. Here comes the part that requires a bit of finesse.

By now you should be drunk, and finesse will be your middle name.

Place a plate that is larger than the pan upside down over the pan. Gingerly, but quickly, flip the whole thing over. When you lift the pan from the plate, it should all come out neatly and in one piece.

Hooray, you did it!  Or if you didn’t, you’re too drunk to really care!  All right!

Now put the pan back on the flame and gently ease the tortilla back into the pan, liquid-y side down. Cook this side as well, using your spatula to push the sides of the tortilla down, creating a frisbee-like curved edge to your tortilla.

Mmm…frisbee.

Don’t overcook it-when the other side is done, remove the pan from the heat and slide the tortilla onto a cutting board for serving. It’s really. that. easy.


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