Thursday, June 11, 2009

Mediterranean Breakfast

Sometimes our actions are born of our discontent; hunger drives us out into the world in search of nourishment. Thirst drives us out in search of the oasis. Loneliness drives us into the arms of others. Not having soaked the sun-dried tomatoes overnight before making an omelette makes us want to soak sun-dried tomatoes for some other purpose.

I remembered I had a can of chickpeas in the cupboard (and Yes, I have tried soaking dried chickpeas, but I've found that, even if I soak them overnight, the ensuing "homemade hummus farts" are twice as deadly with dried). Luckily, I also had a box of Near East falafel mix and some flatbread. Tomorrow's breakfast was really shaping up!

My favorite thing to do with sun-dried tomato hummus is to add lemon and dill. Unfortunately, I didn't have dill or the inclination to go get it. I did have some saffron left over from a trip to Hungary a couple months back, which I thought would go nicely. Now, this saffron available in Budapest comes in big bags and is super cheap, but it's not the same as tiny threads that you may have in your supermarket for absolutely insane prices. It does color food quite nicely, but you have to get a little heavy with it to get even a hint of the aroma of better saffron.

So, in the food processor I started with
1 Tablespoon Tahini (storebought this time, but homemade Tahini is pretty easy and delicious)
2 garlic cloves, crushed
2 dried chili peppers
1 tablespoon cheap Hungarian saffron
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Processed until it formed a paste, then added
1 can chickpeas, drained and liquid reserved.

Processed again, then
Ran the food processor, slowly drizzling about a half cup of olive oil in through the pusher hole thingy as it ran, and a couple tablespoons of the reserved chickpea water.

And then we had...


Not bad! I had added a little too much chickpea liquid, making it a little too runny, but a night in the refrigerator pretty much firmed it up.

The next morning
Breakfast was pretty quick to put together. We just had to soak the falafel mixture for ten minutes and then shape it into balls, make a smoothie (banana pineapple),




and fry the falafel.


video


And this was the finished plate!

A confession.

Okay readers, it's Truth Time.

I don't make breakfast every day. In fact, most days I don't make breakfast. If you're wondering what I do on those days, well, I'm getting there.

Sometimes I really pull myself together, and have a bowl of cereal.

But most times... I'll just... have a little...












































Sometimes, if I've got it together, I'll spread it on bread.
Sometimes, it's just a spoon.
And then there's the days when it gets a little rough.
I'll just...


Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Brooklyn Breakfast




Brooklyn Breakfast
Walking through the Prospect Park farmer’s market Saturday afternoon (even after all that food) I was inspired to make an old standard for Sunday morning breakfast. It was time for Stinky Sandwiches!

I did all my shopping right there, I just needed some bread (organic seven-grain or something), Apples (Organic Fuji this time, maybe something a touch more tart next time, like a Pink Lady?), honey (the waxy looking totally raw semi-local kind [which was really good, but I always feel let down by honey now, nothing compares to Francois’ grandfathers’ honey from France, [which tastes like a childhood in a beautiful place, in a field with many yellow flowers] or even the other farmer’s market honey there, which often tasted like the flowers right there in the hillsides), and most importantly, some cheese.

The Cheese
I saw that the good people of Cato Corner Farms in Vermont were closing up shop right as Ruby and I wandered in to the market, so I jumped over there as quickly as I could, hoping to get a half pound of Hooligan (if you ever stop by that market, check this stuff out). Unfortunately they were out of it, but they did have some of their Fromage d’Or, Hooligan's stinkier uncle.

This stuff is intense. After handling it, and washing my hands several times, my fingers smelled like toe jam for hours. Really, at first you don't want to get near this washed rind cow's milk monster, but once you get it past your nose (or learn to love these pungent aromas) you are rewarded by a sweet, creamy, lightly herbal bonanza of delight.

The Sandwich
Two slices of organic 7-grain bread, one side spread with honey, one side spread with strong dijonnaise
Thin slices of apple (one layer)
Thin slices of sweet sopressatta
A couple chunks of a soft, creamy stinky cheese (in this case, Cato Corner's Fromage d'Or)
Assemble. Eat!

Later on, we...
were going to see "Up" in the theatres. I packed some sandwiches (bagged, wrapped in foil and bagged again) to make a picnic, but SLUG was a half an hour late so we smuggled them into the movie. As the lights went down, I quietly unwrapped layer after layer, as the sweet stink wafted out into the theatre. We ate them, giggling as our neighbors wondered at the source of the delightful/horrifying aroma.