About seven or eight years ago, I was sitting at my kitchen counter on a disgusting Sunday morning in February, much like the one I woke up to today. Not ever having much of a sweet tooth (or at least not one capable of starting my day with things that my shiksa partner lusts after, like cinnamon buns and apple pancakes), I considered the contents of our fridge: dinner the evening before had been pan-seared salmon, French lentils, and sauteed kale with hot red pepper. The leftover lentils and kale were abundant; we also had a few good eggs buried in the back, somewhere near a container of cottage cheese (the contents of which resembled a fifth grade science experiment).
Nevertheless, that morning opened my eyes to exactly how magical a few eggs can be when poached perfectly, and served atop re-heated lentils and greens. Since that time, we’ve had this dish a lot, and I always look forward to it. For one thing, it’s incredibly delicious–especially if your lentils have been cooked together with smoky lardons, diced carrots, and then braised in red wine (at which point, you sort of wind up with a strange meurette-ish kind of thing that you’d pay about $25 a plate for at New York’s soon-to-be-defunct La Goulue).
Over the years, we’ve topped tons of things with poached (or fried) eggs; for the most part, the result is extremely inexpensive (how much, exactly, are two servings of lentils or beans or greens, and two or four eggs? Not much) and fantastically good. If you end up overcooking the egg to the consistency of a squash ball, it’s still decent. (You know the old line: even when sex is bad, it’s still pretty good. Overcooked poached eggs follow suit.) Anyway, some of the things we’ve made include:
Cuban Black Beans (if you’re in a rush, canned, from Trader Joe’s) with poached eggs and a grating of manchego;Leftover kasha varniskes with poached eggs and a lot of cracked black pepper;Leftover fried rice with poached eggs, a drizzle of Sriracha, and chopped scallions;Leftover broccoli rabe with poached eggs, a drizzle of great extra virgin olive oil, and aged pecorino;Leftover dal with poached eggs and a sprinkling of Chaat Masala (eat this with a simple flatbread: either pita or lavash, or make your own crazy-cheap, simple cumin-flecked skillet bread by checking out Naomi Duguid and Jeffrey Alford’s recipe in Mangoes and Curry Leaves).
I could go on.
Lately, though, I’m particularly stuck on the mysteries of grain cookery, which can be very inexpensive indeed. My problem is that I was a kid in the ’70s with lots of friends a good bit older than I, and so I have a vivid memory of being fed flavorless, sawdust-like grains (millet comes to mind here for some reason; even today, when I think of millet, I can’t help but think of Kate Millet and then I wind up getting all huffy and feminist and radical on myself and anyone near me, which just isn’t good). Recently, having just read Mark Bittman’s Food Matters (Mark has has simplified the art of grain cookery thanks to a “mother” recipe that is a great launching pad for more adventurous grain dishes), I loaded up at Kalustyan’s on kasha, bulgur, wheatberries, quinoa, unhulled quinoa, and a bunch of other things that I have absolutely no idea what the hell to do with.
After the first week was over, I realized I hadn’t opened any of them, except for the quinoa.By the second week, I realized that if I didn’t use them, they’d go rancid and I’d have to throw them out, along with the money I’d spent on them.By the third week, I realized that I was responding to them as I would a free $2000 gift certificate to Barney’s: deer in headlights paralysis, thanks to too much of a good thing guaranteed to make me tall and svelte (in the case of Barney’s), or healthy and virtuous (in the case of the grains).
But then, my friend and fellow food fanatic, Tori Ritchie, from San Francisco, came to the rescue and turned me on to a breakfast dish she had at Boulette’s Larder: bulgur with poached eggs, dusted with Aleppo pepper. Amazing, she said it was, and so on this miserably cold February morning, that’s what we had. The recipe was completely imagined on my end (having never been there), and chicken eggs were replaced with two hefty duck eggs, procured from a local food shop. The result?
Assuming my cholesterol behaves itself, I will be eating grains and my beloved poached eggs for breakfast (or lunch, or dinner) as often as I possibly can, whenever I can, however I can.
Note: Any number of leftover vegetables can be added to the bulgur–chopped tomatoes, broccoli rabe, bok choy, you name it.
Bulgur with Poached Eggs and Aleppo Pepper
adapted from Boulette’s Larder
Serves 2, with leftovers
For the bulgur
1/2 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons chopped scallions (white part only)
1 cup medium-grain bulgur
2 cups water
kosher salt, to taste
1. In a medium sauce pan set over medium heat, warm the oil until it shimmers. Add the scallions and cook until soft.
2. Add the bulgur to the pan and stir, combining the grain with the scallions. Once the grains are coated with the oil, pour in the water. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook for 10-15 minutes uncovered, stirring frequently, until the water has been absorbed. Season to taste.
For the poached eggs
2 duck eggs, or 4 chicken eggs
2 tablespoons white vinegar
1. Break the eggs into individual ramekins, and set aside.
2. Fill a medium saucepan halfway with water and set over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil, add the vinegar, and reduce heat to an active simmer.
3. Gently slip the eggs into the pan, and using the back end of a wooden spoon, fold the whites carefully over the yolks. Remove from heat immediately, cover, and let stand for 3-4 minutes. Remove to the ramekins with a slotted spoon.
To serve, spoon the cooked bulgur into warm bowls; top each with 1 duck egg or 2 chicken eggs. Sprinkle with Aleppo pepper and serve immediately.
