I think this happened last Saturday, but let’s pretend it was Sunday because “Sunday Morning Kumquat Jam” sounds better than “Saturday Morning Kumquat Jam.” Having made my coffee, and contemplating breakfast, I stared at the leftover kumquats sitting in a mesh bag on my counter. They were starting to wrinkle a bit, losing their potency. I’d been snacking on them all week (when not using them to garnish cauliflower), popping whole kumquats into my mouth and puckering my lips at the ensuing sour squirt. You can even eat the seeds which I did enough times there may be a kumquat tree growing in my abdomen. I thought to myself, “These kumquats would make a mighty good jam because they’re so sour.” Then, before I knew what was happening, I started improvising a jam on the spot.
Here’s a mashup of two posts that I’m mighty proud of: my signature legacy breakfast dish that’s sweeping the nation, Eggs Adam Roberts, and my post about how easy it is to make corn tortillas at home. Combine these two things and you have a breakfast that’s off the charts delicious. If you keep your tortilla dough on the wetter side (well, moister side, it shouldn’t be wet), you’ll wind up with soft tortillas that wrap smoothly around your perfectly cooked eggs that are pepped up with caramelized onions, pickled jalapeños, and sharp cheddar cheese. Top with cilantro, serve with hot sauce on the side, and invite me over because I deserve some too.
Last week I tried an experiment in Liveblogging that didn’t really work. I was really just fooling around, having some fun with my phone, but I can see why seeing pictures of bread arriving at a lunch table isn’t the most exciting thing in the world. Today, though, I bring you a different take on the same concept: a post about something I just made and ate. This all happened moments before I clicked “Add New Post” so I literally still have the taste in my mouth and can describe it to you in vivid detail. Are you ready?
The three elements that made this breakfast come together the way that it did were leftover pita (from the night I made chicken and hummus), leftover olive tapenade (from the night I made 4-hour lamb; the recipe’s in that post), and leftover Gruyere (from that cauliflower gratin). The breakthrough moment was when I decided to fry the pita. I learned how to do this when Vinny Dotolo and Jon Shook gave me their recipe for a beet salad at their restaurant Animal; instead of croutons, they fry pita. Turns out that’s a really wonderful thing to know how to do.
Use what you got. That’s my best advice for cooking on weekend mornings. Make sure, on Friday, you’ve got eggs and coffee and some milk. After that, start your Saturday by raiding your fridge and putting together a breakfast that makes sense using as many disparate things that you can. Anyway, that’s my goal when I start my weekend and usually the breakfast that results is way better than one where I follow a recipe.
Three recipes, that’s where I draw the line when it comes to sharing recipes from a cookbook. Anything beyond that, and I’m no longer advertising a book that you should buy and I’m just poaching recipes for my own gain. So it’s with great sadness that I post my third and final recipe from Marion Cunningham’s wonderful Breakfast Book. Together we’ve made her raised waffles (a recipe I actually got from Kim Severon’s SpoonFed but it comes from The Breakfast Book) and her Last Word in Nutmeg Muffins. Now comes another muffin recipe, but a peculiar one; a muffin that’s more fruit than muffin. And that’s what makes it great.
It’s almost the weekend and it’s time I got something off my chest. The Eggs Adam Roberts I’ve been linking to and talking up all these years as my main recipe legacy isn’t the Eggs Adam Roberts that I make for myself and Craig every weekend. That old Eggs Adam Roberts was a product of a different time, a more innocent age, an era of sour cream and milk whisked into the eggs before pouring them into the skillet. I haven’t used sour cream and milk in my Eggs Adam Roberts since the early aughts.
If one day I go on trial for food crimes, I think I’m getting 20 years added to my sentence for the following: during my 3 months on New York’s Upper East Side, I never once–not ONCE–visited the famous Kitchen Arts and Letters, one of the city’s (and the country’s) greatest cookbook stores. I still hang my head in shame.
Thankfully, when I went back to New York recently for a few book events, I remedied this most outrageous crime. And my visit there became a highlight of my trip.