Egg

Also good for B, L, or D.

This meal is another B, L, D: good for Breakfast, Lunch, or Dinner.

Here’s another meal that’s good for B, L, or D: Breakfast, Lunch, or Dinner. This one is for my gran’pa.

This is a B-L-D meal: good for Breakfast, Lunch, or Dinner.

This is a recipe for a classic omelet soufflé. It’s a simple yet decadent preparation that shows off the beauty of an egg foam on the plate and the palate. Perfect for breakfast, it also makes a satisfying evening meal when paired with a green salad and some crusty bread.

A beautiful soft-boiled egg, warm and served from its shell, perhaps with crisp fingers of buttered toast, is enough to make the heavens sing. We have been lucky enough to experience different versions of this egg at Per Se, Elements in Princeton, and Momofuku Ko. Each preparation and presentation inspired us and raised the question of how to consistently prepare and serve this elusive culinary delight. Alex began by weighing our eggs to see if all large eggs were the same size. They were close, with about a two-gram differential in our sample. We bought a pot of water to a boil and added the eggs. We cooked the eggs for five minutes and fifteen seconds in gently boiling water and then placed them in an ice bath. The eggs were cooked the way we wanted them and were relatively easy to peel. It may seem finicky to specify a cooking time in minutes and seconds but the devil is in the details. Deciding which details are important and paying attention to them is essential to consistent cookery.

Onsen means “hot springs” in Japanese, and the original onsen eggs were cooked in natural hot springs and served for breakfast. They are famed for their soft, silky texture. We’ve been chasing the perfect onsen egg for years. By increasing the temperature of the cooking water from the modern standard of 147°F (63.8°C) to a more traditional 167°F (75°C), we shortened the cooking time and produced both whites and yolks with the textures we prefer. The results are tender, just-cooked whites paired with a warm, liquid yolks. This version is a great stand-in for the poached eggs in eggs Benedict because the eggs can be cooked ahead of time and then warmed when you are ready to serve.

By far the quickest and easiest egg dish to put on the table is scrambled eggs, which are warm, comforting, and softly luxurious. Scrambled eggs can resemble soft curds or a dry sponge depending on how they are treated. They are a good example of why cooking with gentle heat can be a good thing. Higher heat leads to a higher coagulation temperature, but it also increases the rate at which the eggs scramble. By lowering the heat, we slow down the cooking process, thereby upping the possibility of perfectly cooked results. Here we’ve taken the process one step further by using a hot water bath to cook the eggs. By controlling the temperature of the cooking medium, we can guarantee that the eggs will not overcook. While the eggs are cooking, your hands are free to prepare the rest of breakfast so that everything is ready at the same time.

We decided to try cooking hard-boiled eggs at 158°F (70°C), hypothesizing that cooking them at slightly above their coagulation temperature would give us the best results. This did not work as we had planned because by the time the whites were fully set to our satisfaction, the yolks were overdone. We then cooked eggs at 167°F (75°C) and pulled them from the water at fifteen-minute intervals. At fifteen minutes the whites were just set, opaque yet without enough structure to hold them together. The yolk held together and was very pliable, resembling softened Play-Doh in texture. At thirty minutes the whites were firm enough to be peeled but still a bit soft for our taste. In cooking eggs at this temperature we found that even eggs cooked for as little as thirty minutes produced some hard-boiled-egg characteristics. Knowing this, we can produce a range of hard-boiled eggs with yolks at varying degrees of firmness, depending on the desired results.

If Jewish-Arab relations are better in Marseille than in any other city in France, it is in part due to people like Martine Yana. A Moroccan-born Jewish sociologist married to a Tunisian, she is the head of the Centre Culturel Juif (Jewish Cultural Center), near the Grande Synagogue in downtown Marseille. When La Radio de la Communauté Juive (Radio of the Jewish Community) went on the air in 1981, Martine hosted a weekly talk show in which she invited Jews to chat about their culinary customs. “We followed people’s holiday traditions in Tétouan, Salonika, Turkey, and Marseille,” she told me in her office. “And we got their stories.” This was the period when people were beginning to open up about their experiences in World War II and their Jewishness in general. Like many other French people, Martine thinks philosophically about food. She asks the guests on her programs why they eat certain foods and about the symbolism surrounding them. “I was surprised that so many people didn’t see the greater meaning in what they were doing,” she told me. As head of the cultural center, she has taken it upon herself to present Jewish traditions in France proudly to the outside world. When the mayor of the city of Marseille chose to feature the country of Algeria at a city exhibition, for example, she made sure that there was a Jewish presence and set up a pavilion featuring traditional handmade costumes and cuisine. Last year, during the annual Ramadan festival in Marseille, she suggested to the head of the Arab Cultural Center that there be a Jewish booth. He agreed, and her team of assistants joined her in organizing Hanukkah games for the children and distributing pamphlets on Jewish religion and customs. To their surprise, the curiosity about Judaism made the booth a huge success. Clearly, the time was right. In her cookbook, Trésors de la Table Juive, Martine gathers stories and recipes that cover the breadth of Judaism in France. She includes dishes like this old Provençal spinach-and-herb omelet. The omelet, often served cold, is similar to the North African omelets called m’hemmer, flavored sometimes with chicken and calves’ brains, sometimes with vegetables. Today they are mostly eaten cut into small squares as an hors d’oeuvre on special occasions, such as weddings and Bar Mitzvahs. I love this rendition, with its bright-green color, served hot or cold as an appetizer, or as a main dish for brunch. Use the recipe as a guide, and vary the greens and herbs seasonally, according to your whim.

These days, there are all sorts of packaged Passover cereals and baked goods, even in France. But every Jewish family has a Passover breakfast dish to break the monotony of matzo and butter. I like this typically French omelet, served as is or sprinkled with cinnamon sugar.

After getting reacquainted over a game of Ping-Pong with Caroline and Philippe Moos, cousins I had not seen in many years, I joined them for a dairy dinner with four of their nine children in their house in Aix-les-Bains (see page 212). The meal was delicious, consisting of a vegetable soup, an apricot tart for dessert, and this Savoyard tomato-and-cheese quiche as the main course. This is one of those great recipes in which you can substitute almost any leftover cheese you may have in your refrigerator.

Sometimes I discover dishes that are perfectly in accord with the laws of kashrut in unlikely places. Walking around a neighborhood market in Paris one day, I wandered into a small delicatessen shop called Partout et Tout Mieux, which translates as “Everywhere and Better.” An alluring cherry-tomato-and-basil tart sitting invitingly in the window caught my eye. So I went in and complimented Marie Le Bechennec, the shop owner, on the lovely-looking quiche. I explained that I was writing a cookbook on Jewish food in France and this crustless quiche would fit perfectly into a dairy meal. She replied that she and her husband, Serge, are from Brittany and have many Jewish customers. During the war, her father-in-law was taken prisoner by the Germans because he had hidden Jews who were being mistreated. She paused for a moment. “You know, I think my son is tolerant because he heard this strong voice growing up. That is the only way that tolerance will be translated from generation to generation.” Mary calls this dish a quiche clafoutis. In French cuisine, a quiche is a custard of eggs and milk or cream baked in a pastry crust. And clafoutis comes from the verb clafir, meaning “to fill up” or “puff up.” In this case, the bright-red tomatoes and green basil puff up to the top of the custard. I vary this dish by adding Parmesan and goat cheese; in winter try sautéed mushrooms or one package of frozen spinach and a handful of chives.

The ever-popular lardon-laced quiche Lorraine is off limits for Jews who eschew pork. In an effort to adapt the regional specialty to fit their dietary limitations, the Jews of Alsace and Lorraine created this onion tart, which I find delicious. I learned how to make it from the great chef André Soltner, who, before he came to America, worked for a kosher caterer in his native Alsace. Trust me, you won’t miss the bacon.

I like to poach my eggs in a frying pan. I break them into the pan rather like fried eggs, laying them next to each other, only instead of oil, I use water. It is a much easier method. Then I serve them over well-spiced Indian vegetables, whatever I am in the mood for. I cook the vegetables in advance. Sometimes I use some leftover vegetables from the day before. You may serve the eggs over Potatoes with Cumin and Mustard, Corn with Aromatic Seasonings, or Swiss Chard with Ginger and Garlic.

Here is our family’s most beloved Sunday breakfast/brunch dish. I prepare all the ingredients beforehand and then scramble the eggs as we are sitting down to eat. Toast or heated flatbreads should be served on the side. I like to use the asafetida as it gives a truffle-like aroma, but you could leave it out if you wish. You may have this with slices of French or Italian bread, with toast, or with any of the three Indian breads in this book.

In our house, we all like different types of omelettes. We tend to make our own. This is how I make mine. Indians generally eat their omelettes with sliced bread, toast, or parathas.

We all love these in our family. Put the boiled eggs in egg cups, and have a saltcellar filled with seasoned salt on the side. I like to eat the eggs with toast cut into “soldiers”—long strips, perfect for dunking into the egg.