Tag Archives: asparagus

Polenta Toast with Roasted Asparagus and Fried Eggs

22 Mar

Most people, I assume, remember the joy of being a child and getting to indulge in the rare treat of breakfast-dinner.  This, of course, was a dinner made up entirely of breakfast foods, from pancakes to scrambled eggs and toast, or, for the luckiest among us, waffles and fruit.  As an adult, I still love eating breakfast-dinner, only now, much to the disappointment of my younger self, my idea of breakfast-dinner seems to have reversed itself.  My preferred breakfasts are now decidedly more dinner-like, making my breakfast-dinners only slightly so.

The turning point for my love of a dinner-breakfast (it only seems right to reverse it while discussing how it came to be) was an absolutely delightful breakfast I had at a French place a few blocks away from my house.  The breakfast consisted of risotto cakes, topped with poached eggs, accompanied by a side of roasted butternut squash.  Aside from the eggs, it was not what I would have previously considered a particularly breakfasty breakfast, but I count it among one of the best breakfasts I have ever eaten (many times, for now I find myself unable to order anything else whenever I set foot in that restaurant during breakfast hours).  Something about that meal set my breakfast notions in a different direction, and now the place where my idea of breakfast meets my idea of dinner is all shadowy and muddled.  Basically, they’ve become one in the same.

It was in this shadowy place that I became a huge fan of making both breakfast-dinner and dinner-breakfast into a showcase for crisp squares of polenta that were topped with whatever I could find in the fridge, then finished with a fried or poached egg.  If I have spare greens in the fridge, I sauté them with a bit of garlic and throw them over the polenta.  Roasted summer squash is a fine addition here, and a lot can be said for simply sautéing some onions and bell peppers with a generous pinch of red pepper flakes, slathering the end product with a stream of hot sauce, and starting your day (or ending it) with a bit of a kick.  If you desire a simple accompaniment to a light meal, I am very fond of toasting individual slices of polenta, topped with a bit of Parmesan cheese, under the broiler.

Right now, I am loving the tender asparagus that has just started showing up at the market, and I am convinced that there are no better friends to that asparagus than crisp polenta squares and soft-cooked eggs.  Together, they make what currently stands as my favorite breakfast, my favorite lunch, and, yes, my favorite dinner.

Polenta Toast with Roasted Asparagus and Fried Eggs Recipe

Polenta Toast

Adapted from James McNair’s Breakfast

4 cups water

1 1/3 cups polenta

¼ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Generously butter the sides and bottom of an 8.5” by 4.5” loaf pan, and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, bring the water to a rapid boil over high heat.  Pour the polenta into the boiling water in one continuous stream, stirring with a long-handled wooden spoon as you pour.  Turn the heat down to low, and stir, stir, stir the polenta until it is smooth, thick, and yields a lot of resistance against the spoon.  This should take between 15 and 20 minutes of continuous stirring, being always careful to keep the polenta at a low simmer so as not to allow roiling polenta bubbles to pop up and burn your stirring hand. When the polenta is soft and thick, remove from heat and stir in the salt, pepper, and butter.

Pour the cooked polenta into the prepared loaf pan, then tap the loaf pan gently on the counter to help settle the polenta.  Place a piece of plastic wrap over the top of the polenta, then place it in the refrigerator to firm up.  You could conceivably retrieve your polenta after 5 or 6 hours, but I think it is best to allow the polenta to cool in the refrigerator overnight.

When the polenta is completely cool, gently run a thin spatula or knife around the edges of the loaf to separate it from the pan, then invert the polenta loaf onto a cutting board.  If the polenta remains firmly stuck in the pan, submerge the bottom ¾ of the pan in a pool of warm water, and allow the pan to heat up a bit and help loosen the polenta.

Cut the polenta loaf into slices of your desired thickness.  In a medium skillet, heat a pat of butter over medium heat until it just starts to sizzle.  Add 3 or 4 polenta slices to pan at a time, making certain not to crowd them, and gently sauté on each side until lightly browned (about 3-5 minutes per side).

Top with whatever you desire.

Roasted Asparagus and Fried Eggs

1 pound of asparagus, large ends snapped off

2 tablespoons olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

4 large eggs

2 tablespoons water

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

On a large baking sheet, combine asparagus, olive oil, salt, and pepper.  Using your hands, toss everything together until uniformly coated with olive oil, then arrange asparagus in a single layer.  Roast the asparagus in the oven for 15 to 20 minutes, until the tips are crisp and browned.

Just before the asparagus has finished roasting, heat the butter in a medium to large skillet over medium-low heat.  When the butter just begins to sizzle, crack the eggs into the pan.  Cook the eggs until the whites begin to firm up but the yolks are still soft, then carefully pour the two tablespoons of water around the eggs and then very quickly place a lid firmly over the pan.  The eggs will sizzle and splatter for another 1 to 2 minutes, until the whites are completely cooked, but the yolks are still runny.  If you prefer a firmer egg, cook it a tad longer.

Place asparagus spears over slices of sauteed polenta toast, then top asparagus with a fried egg.  Add more salt and pepper to taste.

Serves 4, with extra polenta toast left over.

Roasted Asparagus and Lemon Chevre Galette

14 Jul

When the sun comes out, it’s time for a picnic.  Unless, that is, the sun has come out after three or four days of intermittent—and yet, somehow, also very much persistent—rain showers, in which case you might want to wait a couple more days before you lay out your picnic blanket and unpack your meal, lest the wet ground provide an unexpectedly damp element to your outdoor eating enjoyment.  Or, if you are the clever type, you could always just pack a waterproof tarp along with your picnic, which would allow you to sit on the ground anywhere you wished without running the risk of making your pants look like they suffered an unfortunate accident.

This, of course, is something I learned only recently.  I don’t know why it never occurred to me to pack a waterproof tarp as a picnic blanket, but I can only presume that my ignorance was derived solely from my insistence on pretending that it is always going to be warmer here than it actually is.  So this is how it came to be that last month (June, which is never never warm here, and I know that, I really do), during my son’s preschool end-of-the-year picnic, when it rained cats and dogs all day long, I found myself sitting beneath a very large tree, propped upon a narrow exposed root that was miraculously free from moisture, and eating what I could only think of as the most perfect picnic food in the world, during the most imperfect picnic weather imaginable.

As evidenced by recent events on this website (and here, where I also regularly share recipes and excitement about food), I have a thing about galettes.  (I also have a thing about tarts and pies, but I am sure you will hear more about that as time goes on.)  Galettes, much like tarts and pies, have the capability of being either sweet or savory, but there is just something a bit more casual about them.

Perhaps it is the lack of special equipment required to make them, as one is not required to own any specific type of pan or plate in order to whip one together, or maybe it is the rustic presentation that defines them (you just roll out the dough, place whatever you desire in the middle, then fold everything up), but lately, when I think of buttery crusts and dreamy fillings, my mind immediately wanders over to galettes.  Call it the laziness of summer (if we ever, ahem, actually experience summer this year), but a galette just seems so laid back, so willing to be eaten without the aid of silverware.  Or a plate.  In fact, the only thing you need to enjoy this galette is a set of taste buds to appreciate the light, flakey crust and the creamy lemon chevre that serves as a base for tender roasted asparagus.  You’ll be so blissfully satisfied, you won’t even notice that right now it’s mid-July, 60 degrees, and raining.  Okay, maybe you’ll still notice, but I swear this delicious galette will make you just a tiny bit less upset about it.

Roasted Asparagus and Lemon Chevre Galette

Galette dough:

This method of grating butter into dry ingredients is a nearly foolproof method of achieving super flakey dough. Grating the butter while frozen makes it almost impossible to overwork and toughen the dough while incorporating the butter, and, when you add your ice water to moisten the ingredients, you’ll find that things adhere together nicely without ever becoming gummy and running the risk of making your dough tough.

1 cup all-purpose flour

¼ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon sugar

6 tablespoons butter (¾ of a stick), frozen as a stick and NOT cubed or sliced

3-4 tablespoons ice water

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and sugar. Using the large holes on a box grater, grate the frozen butter over the flour mixture, covering as much of the surface of the flour as possible (meaning, try not to let the butter pile up too high in one place). Using your hands, quickly toss the butter and flour together to distribute the butter through out the bowl. 1 tablespoon at a time, add 3 tablespoons of ice water while gently turning and mixing the dough with your hands. If the dough is not coming together, add the last tablespoon while continuing to mix the dough. When the dough forms a rough ball, turn the dough out onto a large piece of plastic wrap. Form the dough into a round disc, tightly wrap it in plastic wrap, then refrigerate for at least 1 hour.

Filling:

4 ounces softened goat cheese

1 tsp freshly grated or chopped lemon zest

1/8 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves

1 pound asparagus, tough ends trimmed off

2 tablespoons olive oil

juice of half a lemon

salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a small bowl, combine goat cheese, lemon zest, thyme, and salt and pepper to taste.  Mix together and set aside.

In a medium bowl, combine asparagus, olive oil, lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste.  Gently toss asparagus until it is evenly coated with the liquid.

Roll the disc of galette dough into a 12-inch round.  Transfer the dough to the parchment-lined baking sheet.  Spread the chevre mixture over the surface of the galette dough, leaving a 1 1/2 to 2-inch border at the edges.  Arrange the asparagus over the top of the chevre, alternating the placement of tips and ends as best you can, and leaving uncovered the border at the edge.  Rotating the galette, fold the border up over the filling, pinching and crimping shut at regular intervals.

Bake the galette in the center of the oven for 30-40 minutes, until the asparagus is browned and roasted and the dough edges have browned.

Can be served warm, cold, or at room temperature.