I have put off starting this blog more times than I can
count. I wanted to offer up easy-to-follow,
creative, healthy and seasonal recipes and general kitchen insight in a real way. That was
my hang-up— real, for me meant well,
slightly off-kilter. Clutziness and I have been synonymous since at age five, I
went on a butterfly-catching adventure with a glass jar, and ended up with a
face puffed-out in the shape of a football and a pair of bloodied, bandaged
feet. Instead of going for the harmless butterfly, I set my sights on the much
more tactical catch of a bee. What ensued was a bee chase in which I was the
victim; as the bee stuck its pokey ass into my eyelid, the glass jar shattered
on the driveway, and hundreds of tiny glass shards found cover in my cushy
feet. Not to mention that this is the way I found out I was allergic to bees,
but that’s another story.
Cluster is one way to describe it. Much to my mother’s
dismay, in high school ‘cluster f@$k’ was my go to adjective for describing my daily pursuits. Other people call it clutziness. In fact, in my adult life I have taken
to introducing myself with a form of a warning label. When I first met my
boyfriend the conversation went something like this: “Hi. My name is Cassidy.
There’s something you need to know about me: I am a clutz. Please give me your
phone number, but don’t expect to hear from me, because I will probably loose
or break my phone before I have a chance to call you. Don’t take it personally
though… I really do want to hang out.”
Anyways, as you can imagine a life of absent-minded bumps
and falls, lost keys and phones, spilled dark liquids and forgotten
appointments would not seem to lend itself to success in the kitchen. Yet, when
my parents finally let me near an open flame without supervision, it was
amazing how put together I could be. I was astonished at how much I had picked
up just from observing others (always from a safe distance, of course.) Frying
an egg, over-easy somehow brought out a calm in me. I stopped moving a million
miles an hour and watched the white bubble in the oiled pan, flipping the egg
just as the yolk settled. Many times before I had watched my parents season an
egg— adding salt, pepper and a pinch of tarragon. I grabbed the spices, and
felt comfort in knowing just how much to sprinkle on.
And let me tell you, sometimes there is nothing better than
eating a perfect over-easy egg. Golden yolk pouring out from the salty,
seasoned white, sopped up in crusty toast. It makes me salivate thinking of it
now.
And if I could make simple— yet more than good— food on my
own, well that only served to fuel my culinary exploration.
I was about fifteen when I realized the magic calm cooking
produced in me. This is not to say that I was without mishaps in the kitchen.
Quite the contrary. For one, I am not a clean cook. I have improved quite a bit
over the years, but often after a slightly more elaborate weekend dinner, there
are comments about ‘tornadoes’ and ‘atomic bombs’ from the present peanut
gallery. Yet, I have somehow come out of years of kitchens— both at home and
professionally— relatively unscathed. While I cannot say the same for my
everyday life, I have never received a truly heinous knife wound or burn while
preparing a meal. And more than anything, cooking makes me smile.
So here it is: my version of real. I promise to be honest,
both about the food I cook, and the mishaps in my life that led me to each
meal. I encourage you to laugh, enjoy, and maybe pat yourself on the back
because there is someone out there that is less put together then you. They
call me ‘Crash-ity,' and I cook to cope.
How to fry a perfect egg
You’ll Need:
- 8’’ skillet
- 1 - 1 ½ tsp. olive oil
- One large, preferably free-range or farm-raised, egg
- Course sea salt
- Fresh cracked pepper
- 1/8 tsp. dried tarragon
1.) In a heavy bottomed skillet, heat olive oil
over medium heat.
(My favorite pan for this,
or for any frying really, is a cast iron. If you
don’t have such a pan, use a stainless steel
skillet, preferably not the non-stick kind.)
2.) At about 2 minutes, when oil becomes
viscous (this is called
the ‘smoke point’), tap
egg on side of skillet to crack, and break into
the
middle of pan, close to surface of skillet so
not to break the yolk. The white
in the egg
should immediately start to turn from clear to
white. (If not, your
pan was not hot enough
when you added the egg.)
3.) As the egg sizzles away, sprinkle with a
pinch or course sea salt
and about two to four
cracks of fresh pepper (depending on grinder).
Add half
of the tarragon. (I like using course
spices here, because the flavor will
really pop on
the undressed egg. Just remember, with a really
good sea salt— I
like Real Salt from Utah—
a little goes a long way.)
4.) When the whites of the egg appear to be
firmed up, at about 1
½ minutes, flip using a long-handled spatula. (I like to use a stainless
steel
spatula here.) Taking care not to break
the yolk, scoop under entire egg, and
flip gently
in a rainbow motion, staying close to the pan
surface.
5.) Let egg fry for another 30 seconds. Add
remaining tarragon, salt and pepper to
taste. Scoop from pan and serve immediately
with a piece
of buttered multigrain toast.
6.) Be amazed at how great an egg can taste!
Note: This recipe is
for an over-easy egg. While I personally feel this is the superior way to enjoy
the flavor of the humble egg, if you prefer a firmer finished product: allow
egg to cook until yolk becomes firm (2-3 minutes), then flip and fry for
another minute.
