I first heard of matzoh brei a few years ago, while reading something by Ruth Reichl – I don’t remember what it was any more, but it made an impression on me. A sort of Jewish French toast, a simple mixture of matzoh and egg, fried in butter and topped with syrup, it sounded just like something I would like – but I had never had it or seen it anywhere. My husband, who grew up eating vast quantities of matzoh, didn’t remember ever having it either. And for some reason we never seem to have matzoh on hand.

Then last week I saw the Passover clearance display at the co-op and, on the spur of the moment, decided to grab a cheap box of matzoh. We ate half of it straight with Saint Nectaire cheese (yum), but set aside several pieces for a weekend breakfast. I went looking for recipes and actually had some trouble finding any – none of my Jewish cookbooks included it, but I did find a version in a book called The Good Egg, so I used that – although I upped the egg quantity so there would be a one-to-one egg/matzoh ratio.

Later, I checked online and found Ruth Reichl’s version here. It’s just a bit different from the one I used – in hers you run water over broken matzohs, then scramble them with the egg in the pan, whereas in mine you soak the entire matzoh and then break it up, then fry as a solid cake. When Jon asked his mother, it turned out that she did used to make this occasionally, but her version apparently involves milk. Obviously there’s a certain amount of permitted variation. I think it would also be good as a savory, with herbs and hot sauce. We may need to experiment further.

If you grew up with matzoh brei, how did your family make it?

Matzoh Brei

Adapted from The Good Egg by Marie Simmons. Serves two.

• 3 sheets matzoh
• 3 eggs
• pinch salt
• 2 Tbsp butter

Place the matzoh in a pan, pour cold water over to cover and let sit 5 minutes. Lift the matzoh out and lay on a clean towel to drain, then carefully transfer to a mixing bowl and break it up loosely. Beat together the eggs and salt and pour them over the matzoh. Stir together.

In a large nonstick skillet over medium low heat, melt the butter. When it bubbles, scrape in the matzoh and egg and flatten into a pancake. Allow to cook several minutes, until the bottom becomes golden and a bit crusty. Break the pancake into sections with a spatula and flip the sections. When cooked on the second side, put the pieces on plates and top with maple syrup.

If you’re not worried about keeping kosher, I recommend pork sausage with this. Or bacon.

I would probably never have thought of making this if it weren’t for the “Tom’s Big Breakfast” at Lola in Seattle. A happy plateful of eggs, potatoes, peppers and octopus, I found it surprisingly delicious. So when we left Gretchen’s the other night with a container of leftover boiled potatoes and steamed baby octopus, I knew that we were going to have octopus hash for breakfast.

Since the leftovers were all cooked, all I needed to do was roughly chop the potatoes and toss them into a nonstick pan with a little butter and oil, letting them get good and crusty, then stir in the chopped octopus near the end to heat through. With fried eggs on top and a dab of mayonnaise mixed with habañero sauce, the result was extremely good. And very filling.

We gave the octopus heads to the cats. They all thought we were trying to poison them except Mickey, who scarfed everything we gave him. He has excellent taste.

It’s no secret that I love fried eggs – I do tend to put them on every possible type of leftover. But I also love boiled eggs, and often have one for breakfast with cereal and a pot of tea.

Everyone seems to have their own method for boiling eggs, and I have different methods depending on what final result I’m going for. If I want them hard-boiled for making devilled or curried eggs, I use the approach of putting them in cold water, bringing the pot to a boil, then turning it off and letting it sit covered for exactly twelve minutes, then quick-chilling the eggs. But when I’m boiling an egg for breakfast, I want it soft and runny inside, with the white just set.

My usual 5:30-in-the-morning technique is to pop an egg in a small saucepan, add water to cover, put it over high heat, then forget about it until I hear it bubbling. I look at the clock, then wait two minutes more before taking the pan off the heat and rinsing the egg in cold water. If I think it was on the boil for a little longer, I peel the egg and eat it out of hand. If I get the timing right, I put it in my little chicken egg cup, crack the top and eat it with a spoon (and toast soldiers, if I am so lucky as to have any). The final result depends a lot on whether I actually saw the water come to a boil or not. I suppose I could remedy this by bring the water to a boil first, then adding the egg and setting a timer, but I haven’t had as good results that way.

Regardless of how done it is, the deliciousness of a boiled egg depends a lot on where you get it. We’ve been lucky this year to have gotten eggs from some very fine, spoiled hens – first from Laura at (Not So) Urban Hennery, then from Katharine and Erik at Well Fed Farms. When the chicken is free to roam, eating bugs and salamanders and anything else that comes its way, you get extremely flavorful (and healthful) eggs. The kind that don’t need anything but a pan of water and a sprinkle of salt to be absolutely perfect.

Ever since I brought home a tub of leaf lard from Art of the Pie I’ve been itching to use some of it in a savory pie. My chance came this week, as we had a bunch of spinach from Frog’s Song Farm, a bag of mustard and kale greens from Blue Heron, and a wedge of fresh goat feta from Gothberg Farms. If that doesn’t say “savory tart” I don’t know what does.

I began by completely screwing up my pie dough. I usually stick with a part-whole wheat, all-butter crust for my quiches, but I wanted this crust to taste distinctly of lard. Unfortunately I added too much lard, especially given the warmth of the kitchen, and the dough became unwieldy. I ended up patting it into a tart pan with my fingers instead of rolling it out all the way. Then I prebaked it for a few minutes to make sure it would set and not just melt in the pan. It actually worked OK, so I got started on my filling. 

I wanted this to really be about the greens and feta rather than the binder, so instead of following my usual quiche formula I made up something a little different. I blanched the greens in salted boiling water, then squeezed the liquid out and chopped them. I mixed up two eggs, then added the cooled greens, some sauteed shallot, the crumbled feta, a dollop of cream, lots of freshly ground black pepper, and a pinch of nutmeg. I piled all this into my tart crust and baked it for a while at 375° – sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention, but I think it was about half an hour. Basically, when the egg had set and was beginning to puff up, I called it done.

We let it cool briefly, then carefully (as the crust was very tender) cut wedges and ate them with glasses of chilled rosé. Despite the haphazardness of the preparation, it was really, really good. How about that?

In the annals of putting fried eggs on top of things, this breakfast came very close to perfection. Here’s how to make it.

Take one Dungeness crab, cooked and cleaned.

Pick the meat out and set aside. Put the shell into a saucepan, cover with water, and simmer for about 10-15 minutes. Strain and keep warm.

Make risotto. A little onion in the base is nice, with a splash of white wine. Use the crab stock you just made, and stir in plenty of butter at the end. No cheese.

Stir in the crab at the very end.

Roast some asparagus with olive oil and salt. Not for too long, just until done but still crispy.

Serve the risotto and asparagus for dinner, with a good sprinkle of fresh chives.

The next morning, melt a little butter in a nonstick skillet and scrape the leftover risotto into it (you do have leftovers, don’t you?), chop up the leftover asparagus and press it into the risotto. Cook until you get a good golden crust.

Fry an egg, keeping the yolk good and runny, and serve over the crusty risotto with a sprinkle of coarse salt. Feel happy.

Think about buying another crab.

This is kind of embarrassing, but I can’t deny (and you’ll know this if you’ve been reading for a while) that I will put a fried egg on almost anything. And when you think about it, French fries aren’t that different from hashbrowns, right?

I don’t usually bring leftover French fries home, but these were special fries. We had lunch at Nell Thorn last weekend, after spending a quiet Sunday morning in La Conner checking out some of the Art’s Alive exhibits. Thinking we’d be restrained and share an order (after downing some incredible oyster shooters), we asked for a single Nell burger with fries and a side salad. Unfortunately for our good intentions, the kitchen cut the burger neatly in half, put each on its own plate and filled in the space around it with fries. And these are Nell Thorn fries, done with local potatoes and herbs and served with spicy house-made ketchup. We ate far too many, then just had to take the rest home. And, of course, ate them for breakfast. What would you have done?

In the last two weeks some of the most amazing eggs have come through this house. First I managed to get hold of some from Laura of (not so) Urban Hennery, which were adorable, with improbably large orange yolks that looked like they wouldn’t even fit in the shells.

The following week, I managed to arrive at the farmer’s market early enough to buy eggs from the industrious small girl at the Frog’s Song Farm booth. She had gone to a great deal of trouble, arranging each dozen so it was an attractive mixture of blue, green and brown eggs, and ornamenting the top of each carton with an illustrated profile of a particular chicken. I chose the one featuring “Black Bird,” who apparently announces the arrival of her daily egg with a song.

With all these fabulous eggs in the house, I’ve been eating a lot of fried eggs on top of leftovers, scrambled egg sandwiches and egg fried rice. Yesterday I had one of the best soft boiled eggs of all time, which is saying something.

I also tried a new recipe, found in a madly compelling library book (everyone in the cataloging department kept swiping it to drool over the photos), for an eggy Dutch baby sort of pancake flavored with a large quantity of stinky cheese. That used up six eggs, right there.

The pancake was a success, but I think needs a little tweaking, at least to feed fewer than six to eight people. I made it in a large cast iron pan, and it fed four people easily with leftovers for two more, so for my purposes I think I’ll cut the recipe down a bit next time (I think it would poof better if there was less batter in the pan, as well). I used Brie, but a more assertive cheese like Gorgonzola would be really good, especially served with grapes or lots of fresh chopped herbs.

Brie Pancake

adapted from Chocolate for Breakfast by Barbara Passino

• 4 Tbsp butter
• 1 ½  cups all-purpose flour
• 6 oz Brie, Camembert, Gorgonzola or other ripe cheese
• 6 eggs
• 1 ½ cups milk
• ½  tsp salt

Preheat the oven to 425°.

Thinly slice the cheese and blend it with the flour and salt in a food processor. If your processor is safe for liquids (mine turned out to be not), add the eggs and milk and blend till smooth. If not, mix by hand in a bowl.

Melt the butter in a very large cast iron pan or eight individual ramekins (you can put them in the oven on a sheet to heat up). Pour the batter in and put directly back in the oven. Bake for 20-25 minutes, until the edges are crisping up and turning brown. Don’t open the oven while it’s baking!

Take the pancake(s) out and serve immediately – it will begin to deflate right away, so seize the moment. Sprinkle with herbs, halved grapes (I particularly recommend the grapes if using an assertive cheese) or fresh strawberries.

It was serendipitous, really. We were already planning pizza for dinner, but hadn’t given much thought to the toppings; usually we just go with tomato sauce, pepperoni and sliced olives if nothing else is really calling to us, and we always have those on hand.

In the nick of time, though, I saw a tweet from Michael Ruhlman about a homemade pizza topped with bacon, egg and asparagus. It looked amazing, and I thought, “Why have I never thought of putting bacon on a pizza? What have I been doing with my brain all this time?” Plus I adore eggs on pizza (especially with bitter greens, like one I tasted at Serious Pie), but I haven’t ever gotten the hang of it. It was time to try again.

I did my usual crust, because I still think it’s one of the best ever – just a little whole wheat, and plenty of crunch without being crackery. I like to transfer the rolled-out crust to a hot pizza stone and top it right there on the hot oven rack, which takes a bit of quick work and gets you all hot and bothered, but is much easier than trying to move a fully loaded pizza. We didn’t have any asparagus, but we did have some diced tomato left over from last week’s kebabs, so I tossed that on with the lightly sauteed bacon lardons. After five minutes I added a raw egg and let it bake another ten minutes.

It ended up being a little overdone, due to my apparent inability to tell the difference between a nicely baked-but-still-runny egg and a completely raw one – next time, I’ll take it out sooner. But it was still a swell pizza, chewy and cheesy and bacon-y. It looked so good we had to cut into it while it was still molten from the oven, and burned ourselves extremely thoroughly – ouch. It was totally worth it though. We’ll be doing this again.

For those who have not had a large Rubbermaid container of leftover curried eggs to work through this week, and are therefore not completely burned out on them, here’s a recipe (I omitted to include it in my Easter brunch report, obviously a mistake).

Ideally, this should be done with freshly found Easter eggs, wet with dew, delivered to the kitchen by victorious children, anxious to get back out into the fray. The finished dish will be ready by the time all the hunting is done, assuming you’ve begun the prep beforehand.

If you have no children or Easter eggs available, however, you can boil eggs just for this purpose. You could even make them sometime other than Easter. I won’t tell.

Curried Eggs

adapted from the Vegetarian Epicure by Anna Thomas

• 6 eggs, not too fresh (fresh eggs are hard to peel)
• 2 Tbsp sour cream
• 2 Tbsp dried dill or 4 Tbsp fresh chopped dill
• 1 cup chopped button mushrooms
• salt and pepper

for the sauce:

• 3 Tbsp butter
• 3 Tbsp flour
• 2 tsp curry powder (I like one that’s heavier on the coriander than the mustard)
• 2 cups of milk, warmed
• salt and pepper
• paprika

Hard boil the eggs and cool them completely (this may be easiest done a day ahead – not a problem if you’re using found Easter eggs). Peel them, cut them in half lengthwise and scoop out the yolks into a bowl.

Saute the mushrooms with a little butter or olive oil. Let them cool, then add them to the egg yolks.

Add the sour cream and dill, then salt and pepper to taste. Mash it all up thoroughly, and stuff the egg halves with the mixture (they will be very full). Lay the eggs out in a single layer in a baking dish (you could refrigerate them for a while at this point if you don’t have the curry sauce ready).

For the sauce, melt the butter in a heavy saucepan or double boiler. Add the flour and whisk it smooth. Let it cook, whisking, until it turns slightly golden. Add the curry powder and whisk it in, then add the warm milk. Bring the sauce to a simmer and cook, still stirring often, until it has thickened to a nice velvety sauce.

Pour the sauce over the eggs, sprinkle paprika over the top, and bake for 15 minutes at 375° until hot through.

Serve with English muffins, asparagus, roasted potatoes and lots of coffee.

We had a rather fabulous Easter brunch (I say modestly) at our house yesterday. It was an excellent way to spend the morning, since the day turned out aggressively wet and windy. Not good egg-hunting weather.

Curried eggs, from the original Vegetarian Epicure, are a must in our family for Easter. They’re some trouble to make, but worth the effort. The eggs are stuffed with their own yolks, which are mixed with sour cream, fresh dill and sauteed mushrooms. The devilled eggs are then baked in a curried bechamel sauce with a sprinkling of paprika.

Jon made his sour cream coffeecake, which turned out spectacularly well. The recipe is handwritten in the back of our old Moosewood Cookbook – it was from the mother of one of his college housemates. It’s the best coffeecake I’ve ever eaten: moist, slightly sweet and cinnamony, with a crackly crust on top. The crumb is really, really tender.

I also made what was most likely the best berry pie of my entire life. I have no idea why it came out so well. Frozen blackberries, butter crust, Joy of Cooking recipe. Swoon.

Also: prosecco with a drop of pomegranate juice. Yum. And coffee, and quiche, and fruit, and roasted potatoes, and asparagus, and…everyone was full! Some guests may not need to eat again for days…

Sour Cream Coffeecake

Makes two loaves. Original source lost in the mists of time.

• 2 sticks butter
• 2 cups sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup sour cream
• 1 Tbsp vanilla (more or less)
• 1 3/4 cup flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt

Topping:

• 1 Tbsp cinnamon
• 4 Tbsp sugar

Preheat the oven to 350°. Line two loaf pans with parchment (or you can butter and flour them).

Cream together the butter, sugar and eggs. Fold in the sour cream and vanilla, then add the mixed dry ingredients. Split half the batter between the loaf pans. Sprinkle on half the topping, then spoon in the rest of the batter and finish with the rest of the topping. Bake for one hour. Let cool before cutting.