Caramelized Onion Galette

How are you doing? I’m doing okay, but not great. I’m sick of working from home, of worrying, of days on the couch leading into evenings on the couch. Of no surprises and small worlds. Of insurrection and racial injustice and the failings of democracy. Of my playlists and sweatpant rotation and yoga apps. Of the book I should just stop pretending to read because I haven’t finished a book in months. Of my job, adjusted for *these times* but nowhere near as fulfilling. Of being worried about my family and friends and coworkers, and for myself every time I cough. Of idiots not covering their noses with their masks, or walking too close to me, or just generally low on respect for others. Of online trivia and online hangouts and online games and online rehearsals and online shopping. What I wouldn’t give to eat a piece of pizza on the subway on the way to a concert. Or to sit at a bar by myself and get one too many happy hour cocktails while waiting for a dance class. Or to go onto kayak and search flights and then just decide to buy one because I miss people and I miss adventure and I’m a grown ass woman who can afford to go to Miami for a weekend, thank you very much. 

And yet I’m also anxious about our impending “return to normal”. Will we stay in our own comfort, having gotten used to solitude? I can’t help but think back to pre-pandemic life, a blur of restaurants and performances and bars and hangouts and trips and late nights. I maybe only cooked once or twice a week.

Now we cook alllll the time. I’ve actually documented it, one picture a day since last March, linked somewhere on a previous post that I’m not too eager to reshare. They’re not beautiful photos, but forms a pretty amazing diary of a year of dinners, mostly homemade. Lots of experiments, and weirdly only a handful of repeats. You can see the moment when we deemed it safe to get takeout, track the seasons through what CSA produce appears, see the blur around the election where I baked a bunch and didn’t eat a vegetable for a week. You can see two visits to New Hampshire, with a change in dishware and surroundings. I can tell the meals we shared with our building and community, distanced and at times awkward, but with such relief to be around people and share food again. 

It has not been an ideal year. But looking back over almost a year of dinners, baking projects, success, and only a couple failures, gives me pride. Cooking dinner has been a source of creativity, meditation, and community for me the past year. I’m so thankful. We’re going to get through this. 

On that note, here’s an onion galette we made with our ridiculous CSA haul. It was so freaking good. Onions take time to caramelize, dough needs to rest, the galette takes it sweet time to bake. But you have some time these days, right? 

ooo, some recipes from Februarys past:
one year agogarlic bread “chilaquiles”
two years agobaked rolled eggplant, Sicilian-style
four years agomiso ginger kale salad
five years agoroasted tomato and kasha bowl

Caramelized Onion Galette

a Swanky Original, I guess

First, make your dough. I used the smitten kitchen galette dough, which is just a dream. It needs to chill in the fridge for an hour before using. Use whatever recipe you love, or puff pastry. 

Peel and slice 3 pounds of yellow onions into thin-but-not-too-thin strips. (Very thankful to be a contact-wearer for tasks like this.) This is a lot of onions!! It takes a while! That’s okay. Melt a big nob of butter and a drizzle of olive oil in the biggest pan you’ve got, over lowwww heat. Add onions and sprinkle with kosher salt. If you can’t fit all onions at once, add in batches once they’ve shrunk down a bit. Cook on low, stirring occasionally, for as long as you can bear it. These ones took me close to two hours. When they’re deeply golden, meltingly tender, and smell amazing, call it. I added some black pepper, some splashes of sherry vinegar, and a touch of fish sauce, and let it cook for 3 minutes more. Taste and adjust however you see fit. 

At some point, preheat your oven to 400F.

On a floured surface, roll out your galette dough to about a 12 inch circle. Carefully transfer onto a parchment-lined baking tray. Leaving a 1-2 inch border, spread with grainy dijon mustard. Top with a healthy dusting of microplaned parmesan. Next add all your onions in an even layer. Fold galette dough edges attractively onto itself. Mix 1 egg yolk with a little bit of water, then brush this over the dough. Dust the whole thing (dough + onions) with another dose of parmesan. Mine took about 40 min to bake, though start checking at 30. It’s done with galette is puffed, evenly browned, and bottom has some color. Let cool slightly before eating. Also great at room temp.

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Greens on Toast with a Lacy Fried Egg – 17/67

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Do you smell that? The summer heat, fighting in through the window cracks and landing on your skin? It’s some combo of pollen, sweat, musty summer clothes unburied, overheated floors, dusty ACs, melted ice cream, iced everything, sunburn memories. I was brushing my teeth the other night when it swooped in and hit me. It smelled like unfair moments in 3rd grade, when my siblings got window ACs in their rooms, but I didn’t, because I had three windows and could get a good cross breeze. (Time for a reckoning, parents. I’m an adult now and I know a cross breeze doesn’t hold a candle to real, manufactured, cold air. Hmph.) And it’s only June. We have two, long, slumpy, heat-laden, memory-scented months before us here. 

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I don’t hate it. I mean, we have 3 things of ice cream in the freezer right now. That’s a good summer perk. Also, CSA season! My favorite time of year, as you may know if you’ve been a longtime reader. Greens and more greens, and this is only a half-share. Also still taking suggestions for what to do with my half a gigantic kohlrabi. It doesn’t lend itself as easily to breakfast as greens do. 

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This recipe is fairly similar to another eggs and spinach one I’ve blogged before. But this variety you see before you is definitely the version that happens on a more regular basis around here. I’m not sure if it’s noteworthy or bloggable on its own accord, but Hanna said one of her favorite no-recipe meals is a lacy fried egg on greens. So here’s a typical breakfast for me, and it counts as one of my binder recipes, and it uses up a CSA bundle! Win, win, win. 

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one year ago: best kale salad” (as it has goat cheese, dried cherries, and a mustardy vinaigrette that is really, really good)
two years ago: nothing of note, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t the best use of turnips I’ve encountered yet
three years ago: vaguely Lebanese un-stuffed eggplant
four years ago: roasted beets and their greens with mint sauce (psych! this was also from five years ago!)
five years ago: rhubarb cake

Greens on Toast with a Lacy Fried Egg 

A swanky favorite, inspired by Hanna 

Olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
Sprinkle of red pepper flakes
1 bunch spinach, some stems removed, roughly chopped
Smoked paprika
Juice of ¼-½ a lemon
s&p
3 eggs
toast
Shredded parmesan, hot sauce, fresh parsley 

To make greens: Heat a touch of olive oil in a small pan. Add garlic and red pepper flakes and cook for about a minute on low-ish heat, until you can smell the garlic. Add spinach all at once. Sprinkle immediately with a couple dashes of smoked paprika, some lemon juice, and salt and pepper before it wilts. Stir to combine. Cook for 3-4 minutes, or until spinach is lightly wilted.

Meanwhile, make toast. 

I was lazy and wanted to use the spinach pan for the egg too. Be like me! When spinach is wilted to your liking, remove and put directly on your toast or aside for tomorrow morning. (This will make enough for three mornings-worth of breakfast for one person, especially good if your partner dislikes cooked spinach for some reason *eye roll emoji*.) Now make a fried egg. I did this one in too much olive oil, spooning oil over the whites to cook them a bit further. Bon Appetit/Jose Andres and Smitten Kitchen go into more detail about this crispy, lacy egg “phenomenon” (my words, not theirs) if you care about such things. Any fried egg will do. 

Layer toast, spinach, and egg. Sprinkle with parmesan, another glug of good olive oil for good measure, and your fancy sea salt. Hot sauce doesn’t hurt. Parsley is also nice. Mmm. 

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Italian Egg Drop Soup

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I haven’t posted here since 45’s inauguration. It has felt… inappropriate, I guess. Like, don’t I have something better to do with myself than take photos of food, obsess over editing them, and write these ditties? There are environments to protect, women to march with, immigrants and Muslims to use my voice to shout with. There are politicians to be called, postcards to be written, articles to read and discuss, news briefings to shake my head to and hold back tears. There are “resistance” book clubs to organize and political arts events to attend. There are science and arts budgets and Planned Parenthood to defend. It just seemed like documenting my most recent grain-and-roasted-beet-bowl would seem … inappropriate.

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And then — someone (not sure who) found the Swanky Sweet Potato Instagram account I started well over a year ago but never followed through with. (I thought that shit was private, oops.) And although it’s silly — like, the silliest ever — these continuing notifications about people who have started following the Instagram account for this little blog are convincing me to get my butt back at it. Peer pressure — it works. So you, you out there… you like these rambles? These photos and recipes? You’re okay being distracted from the headlines and the John Oliver monologues and the protests to read a little ditty about soup? Well, okay, you’re right. Sometimes we do just need to think about soup. I will keep the soup coming.

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This soup says spring is on its way, loud and clear. Fresh spring onion, tender greens, parsley, and egg — it is bright, clean, and wholesome. (Also, curiously, has a lot of overlap with what you’d find at a Passover seder. Coincidental, I swear.) Eat it and you’ll feel a whole lot better about yourself than after you eat the gloopy, flavorless, plastic-packaged variety from your local take-out joint, promise. And hopefully also more equipped and ready to handle the unending sea of stupidity and devastation that 45 is serving up daily (though this part I can’t promise). 

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one year ago: roasted chickpea and kale stuffed sweet potatoes with tahini sauce and charred chipotle broccoli tacos
two years ago: simple pasta with smoked scamorza cheese and tomatoes

Italian Egg Drop Soup

adapted from Serious Eats

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 spring onion (or regular), bulb and light green parts, chopped small
2 garlic cloves, minced
Pinch red pepper flakes
7-8 Swiss chard leaves, stems minced and leaves chiffonaded (see here for how-to!)
4 cups broth + 2-3 cups water (or use broth cubes)
Dash of (freshly grated) nutmeg
1 14-oz can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 cup small uncooked pasta (I used orecchiette)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 eggs
Juice from ½ a lemon
Big handful chopped parsley
Cheese to sprinkle, optional (parmesan is typical, I’ve used both swiss and cheddar)
s&p

In a big soup pot, heat up the olive oil. Add onion (bulb + light green part), garlic, and pepper flakes and sauté on medium heat for about 4 minutes, until translucent. Add the chard stems and a big sprinkle of salt (not leaves yet!) and cook for another 3 minutes.

Next, add broth and/or water, nutmeg, chickpeas, and pasta. Cover and bring to a boil. Once at a boil, uncover and cook at a rollicking boil for another 3 minutes. Add soy sauce and cook for another 2 minutes. Next add Swiss chard greens, return to a boil, and cook for 2 minutes.

Beat eggs together in a spouted measuring cup. Turn down to a simmer and pour eggs into soup while stirring continuously. Cook for another two minutes. Just before serving add a big grind of black pepper, lemon juice, and parsley. Top individual portions with cheese if desired.

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