Egg

Deviled eggs can create a fair amount of anxiety. It’s the peeling that’s the problem. Experts say older eggs with more of an air pocket peel more easily, some say leave the cooked eggs in the fridge a couple of days before peeling, some say add a little vinegar to the boiling water. All we know is that when it counts, they don’t peel. Deviled Egg Spread with Smoked Paprika is the happy outcome after a fit of frustration with a bowl of broken hard-cooked eggs. Hey, you’re thinking, that’s just egg salad. So what! The smoked paprika adds the devil and makes a perfectly lovely spread for party rye or crackers.

Made with bruscandoli, hop shoots, should their wisp of a season embrace Easter. If not, one searches out the first, slimmest shoots of asparagus.

Inspired by main-course salads found in the bistros of France, this dish comprises some of my favorite ingredients—beets, mustard, dandelion, and soft boiled egg. The salmon is covered in minced herbs, seasoned with fleur de sel, and then slow-roasted in a humid oven until it’s moist and custardlike at the center.

Yes, This is good for you. But that’s not the reason I eat it. By whipping the egg whites just until foamy, the resulting omelet is light and delicious. (Unwhisked egg whites get rubbery.) Unlike regular omelets, which shouldn’t color, this one gets cooked in a blazing hot pan until crisped and brown and the fresh herbs get sealed right into the whites. While lemon may seem an unlikely pairing for eggs, the bit of zest at the end adds a brightness perfect for the clean flavors here.

This dish is more or less fried eggs with crunchy, savory bits cooked into them. It’s like a cross between a frittata and an omelet, but a whole lot better. This is Marja’s favorite weekend breakfast, so I usually just make two servings for us to share, but you can easily double the recipe below if you cook it in a large skillet.

One of my first lessons as an apprentice, both in my mom’s kitchen and in my first restaurant position, was how to perfect an omelet. It should be fluffy, with runny eggs, and never browned. Back then, we used steel pans. We now have the advantage of nonstick pans, which make the technique more foolproof and the omelet every bit as delicious. Although the chiles are optional, they’re my favorite part of this dish. They add a bright note to accent the wilted spinach and creamy goat cheese melted into the eggs.

When I first moved to America I had never tasted eggs Benedict before and was shocked by its popularity. Over the years, I’ve made this dish my own. Most hollandaise recipes call for clarified butter, but I prefer using fresh butter to capture the rich milk flavor.

There are countless versions of croque monsieurs and croque madames all over France. My mom cooks the sandwiches in a cast-iron press on the stovetop so that the bread becomes a crisp casing for the filling. I prefer a sandwich that’s hot and moist all the way through, so I bake the cheese on top of the bread and spread béchamel throughout. That’s the key to my version: The bread must completely absorb the sauce. The effort is well worth it.

I like to make this quiche in late spring, when asparagus is at its prime. When selecting asparagus, look for straight, firm, bright green stalks with deep green or purple tips. The fresher, the better, so purchase your asparagus as close as possible to the time you plan to make the quiche.

Provolone cheese provides the dominant flavoring in this recipe, so select the variety carefully, according to your taste preferences. If you like a sharper taste, err toward provolone piccante; if you’re in the mood for mild, provolone dolce is the way to go. The inclusion of sausage makes this quiche a great breakfast selection.

I’m a sucker for ham and brie sandwiches, thus the inspiration for this dish. This quiche is particularly rich and filling, combining the smoky flavor of ham with the creamy texture of brie. For best results, when selecting your cheese, look for a ripe brie that is less firm and somewhat mottled in appearance.

This quiche is always one of my first picks for a summer brunch or lunchtime treat. As a New Englander, I am lucky enough to be spoiled with regular access to fresh lobster. I’m also the first to admit that the process of cooking and cleaning lobster can be somewhat arduous. To save time, I recommend purchasing fresh lobster meat (as opposed to a whole lobster) from your local seafood purveyor. Your guests will never believe how simple this elegant tasting quiche is to make.

This is the quintessential quiche dish and certainly one of the most popular in the store. French farmers in the Alsace-Lorraine region of France used to enjoy this quiche as a lunchtime meal, and it’s clear why. The smoky bacon floating amid a creamy cheeseinfused filling is enough to keep you going all day long.

This classic combination is great for any time of the day: breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner or even a late-night snack. If you are partial to other vegetables, such as asparagus or zucchini, feel free to tailor this recipe to your own tastes, either substituting for the broccoli or adding more veggies.

Less puffy and showy, but just as delicious as Mrs. Rowe’s Meringue (opposite), this family recipe is a tougher breed. The salt and cornstarch fuse and stabilize it, making it easier to manage and giving it a harder glaze once it’s baked, which means less likelihood of weeping.

Essentially a custard of eggs, cream, and savory fillings baked in a pastry crust, quiche is simple to prepare, and takes well to a variety of flavors. For example, you can follow the recipe below to prepare quiches with the suggested fillings—mushroom, bacon and caramelized onion, or leek and corn—or substitute any other ingredients you prefer. You can bake a quiche in a plain pie plate, but the sharper edges of a tart tin better support the crust’s sides. In addition, blind-baking the shell will prevent the crust from undercooking and getting soggy. A perfectly cooked quiche will be completely set (it shouldn’t jiggle in the center), slightly puffed, and lightly browned across the surface.

When I was growing up, fried egg sandwiches were one of my mother’s specialties, and we often had them for lunch on weekends. The sandwiches were made in her New Mexico cooking style: The eggs were turned once and fried until the whites were crisp around the edges and the yolks were well set. Then they were transferred to slices of white bread that had been slathered with mayonnaise, and a lettuce leaf was slipped between the egg and the bread. Here’s my contemporary version of that homey sandwich. Its siren call of melted, oozing cheese and added bonus of sausage bits turn my mom’s simpler lunchtime sandwich into a mini-meal on bread. In keeping with the pizza theme, I call for sweet Italian or Tuscan sausage. But American Breakfast Sausage (page 10) or Spicy Garlic Sausage (page 48) would also do nicely.

In the 1970s, when everyone and their sisters and brothers became enchanted with French cooking, with Julia Child leading the way, quiche became the savory custard pie. The classic, quiche Lorraine, made with bacon and Gruyère cheese to enrich the custard, enjoyed star status as an elegant staple for brunch or for a first course in a multitiered dinner à la français. Variations in great numbers soon followed, and quiche in one or another guise turned into a favorite on buffet tables and appetizer menus. Here, with Toulouse sausage and a green splotch of spinach, the lovable custard-in-a-crust reinvents itself into an uncomplicated light dinner. Even though it is easier to purchase a prepared pastry crust, to settle for that is to miss the flaky, unctuous mouth delight of a homemade one. A food processor provides a quick, simple, and almost hands-free way to make an exceptional crust. A removable-bottom tart pan, such as the type the French would use for quiche and sweet dessert tarts, makes it easy to present the pie standing alone rather than in a dish, which is more awkward to serve from.

Omelet, frittata, egg tortilla—all are different words for essentially the same thing: eggs mixed with vegetable and/or meat bits and cooked into a cake or pancakelike round. The advantage of this version is that it follows the Spanish or Italian custom of baking the assembled dish. That means no intimidating calisthenics to flip the cake to cook the second side. I serve this informal dish in its cooking skillet, but it’s also easy to lift it out onto a platter.