Zucchini Quiche with Feta, Walnuts & Lemon

Because my work involves so many different cooking outlets (teaching—at more than one place, private dinners—in many different homes, working in a pastry shop, testing recipes for all of the above…not to mention for my blog…) I occasionally purchase way too much of an ingredient.  Most of the time I am able to absorb the extra into my own cooking…or one of the many outlets…without too much thought.  Recently however, I found myself in possession of an extra quart and a half of cream that I didn’t “need” for any of my work.  I love cream.  But a quart and a half is a lot of cream for a household of one!

I began to look for ways to use lots of cream.  I made my mother a batch of scones….  I made myself a batch of scones….  And I still had almost a quart.  At the same time, I also had an abundance of beautiful eggs (gifts from good friends who keep chickens).  So, I thought ice cream would be the solution.  But I didn’t have any milk…and I didn’t feel like adding to my stash of dairy…

Then I went to the farmers’ market.  Actually, I went to three in one morning—because I really do love going to farmers’ markets.  When I got home I discovered that in shopping at three locations without a list I had purchased way too much zucchini and summer squash (it was just so beautiful—I think it has been a good year for squash). 

As I looked at my abundance of squash, wondering how I was going to consume it before it started to go bad, I thought about my stash of cream and eggs….  Then I thought of quiche.  A standard size quiche would use up at least a cup of cream…plus a couple of eggs and a good portion of my squash.  As luck would have it, I also had a round of pate brisée in my freezer (always a good thing to have on hand!).  Clearly a zucchini quiche was meant to be.

Now I just had to decide how I wanted to cook the summer squash (Vegetables should always be cooked before adding them to a quiche. To learn why, check out my “quiche basics” post from a few years ago.)  …and what other flavors I wanted to add to compliment the squash.  For the cooking of the squash I decided to go with a method I described in a pasta salad post several years ago.  The squash is cooked in a sauté pan with a small amount of olive oil and a minimal amount of water.  As the squash cooks the water evaporates.  Tom Colicchio (the source of the method) calls the result ‘the essence of zucchini’:  tender zucchini that isn’t water-logged (as it would be if boiled) or caramelized (as it would be if sautéed or roasted).  I thought it would be a perfect way to prepare it for a quiche.

My inspiration for the remaining flavors began with the zucchini tart in Anna Thomas’s The Vegetarian Epicure (which was the first recipe that popped into my mind when I began to think about a zucchini quiche).   Her tart is so tightly packed with zucchini slices that a cross-section looks like a mosaic.  It is the look I was striving for in my quiche.  She tops her tart with toasted breadcrumbs.  I loved the idea of a bit of crunch—and I love quiche topped with breadcrumbs—but I decided instead to get my crunch from some finely minced walnuts. 

Walnuts are one of my favorite companions for zucchini. The addition of lemon and garlic to this combination raises the flavor to one of those “greater than the sum of its parts” food experiences.  I don’t remember now where I first encountered this combination.  I wish I did, so I could give credit.  Zucchini can seem a bit bland and one dimensional—slightly bitter…with finer specimens exhibiting a nutty flavor profile.  The walnuts accentuate both of these things.  Garlic adds depth.  Lemon turns on the lights, allowing all the flavors to shine.  If you have never tried this combination of flavors, you should try making a side of simply sautéed zucchini, finished with garlic, lemon zest, a shower of chopped walnuts and a judicious amount of salt (and some parsley or thyme if you’re feeling fancy).  You will probably have a new favorite summer side dish.

All of these flavors were easily incorporated into the tart.  I added thyme to the zucchini as it cooked…and slipped the lemon and garlic into the custard.   And to get that little extra bit of salt that all of this requires, I added Feta.  Not only does Feta provide a nice tangy/salty accent, it can be cut into cubes (like the squash) and adds to the lovely mosaic look of the slices of quiche.  All in all, I found this tart to be unusually delicious—and a great way to use up some of that late summer abundance of zucchini (not to mention my own personal surplus of cream and eggs!).

Zucchini Quiche with Feta, Walnuts & Lemon

400 g./14 oz. small zucchini and/or summer squash, trimmed and cut into a 1/4- to 1/3-inch dice (see note)—a generous 3 cups

several sprigs of thyme, picked

1 1/2 t. olive oil

1/4 c. water (plus more as needed)

Salt & pepper, to taste

2 eggs

1 c. heavy cream

Zest of one medium or half of a large lemon

1 small clove of garlic

1 10-inch blind baked tart shell (see below)

1 1/2 oz. grated Parmesan or Pecorino (or a mix of the two—which is my preference)

4 oz. Feta (block in brine), cut into 1/4-inch cubes

1/4 c. walnuts (finely chopped)

In a very large skillet, warm the olive oil over medium to medium high heat. Add the zucchini, the picked thyme, a generous pinch of salt and 1/4 cup of water and cook over moderately high heat, stirring occasionally, until the zucchini is tender and the water has evaporated.  This will take 5 to 10 minutes, depending on the size and age of the zucchini.  Add more water if the zucchini starts to brown. Transfer the zucchini to a baking sheet to cool.  If the zucchini is tender and the water hasn’t evaporated, spread the zucchini on paper towels to absorb the excess moisture. 

Crack the eggs into a medium bowl and whisk until smooth.  Add the cream and lemon zest.  Using a microplane zester (the same one you used for the lemon zest), grate the garlic clove into the bowl (if you don’t have a microplaner, smash the garlic to a purée with a pinch of salt and add).  Whisk until smooth.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Place the baked crust on a baking sheet.  Scatter half of the Parmesan/Pecorino over the crust. 

Next, add the squash and spread into an even layer.  Scatter the Feta evenly over the squash and use your fingers to nudge it into an even layer with the cooked squash. 

Slowly pour the custard over the squash and Feta, jiggling the pan a bit so the custard will be evenly distributed and will penetrate any pockets created by the squash and cheese. Be careful not to let the custard flow over the edge. If there are any low places in the edge of your crust, you will not be able to use it all. Scatter the remaining Parmesan/Pecorino over the tart, followed by the walnuts.

Bake the tart in a 375-degree oven until the custard is set—about 25 to 30 minutes (a knife inserted in the center will come out clean). Slide the tart under the broiler to brown slightly if you like. Serves 6 as an entrée (with a salad or vegetable side), 8 to 10 as a light first course with a fluff of lightly dressed greens.

Note: 

• The tart is very fragile if served right away.  If you don’t mind the zucchini slipping apart from the custard a bit as you eat, this isn’t a huge problem.  But if this bothers you, simply make the tart ahead—it slices beautifully if it has time to rest and set up.  And, it actually tastes better on subsequent days—the flavors having had time to develop and blend.
• I have made this tart with both diced and sliced (scant 1/4-inch) zucchini.  When sliced, the “slipping” of the squash (previous note) is even more pronounced.  But slicing the zucchini is obviously faster than dicing…and as mentioned above, isn’t a problem after the tart has had a few hours to set up.
• Parmesan is nutty—accenting the nuttiness of the squash and the walnuts.  Pecorino contributes a salty tang (like the Feta).  I like the inclusion of both—but one or the other would be fine too.

Pâte Brisée

(Short Crust Pastry)

1 1/3 c. all-purpose flour (150g)
3/8 t. salt
8 T. cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces (113g)
3 to 4 T. ice water

Combine the flour and the salt in a medium-sized bowl.  Rub the butter into the flour until the butter is in small pea-sized pieces. Drizzle the smaller measure of ice water over the flour/butter mixture.  Using your hands, fluff the mixture until it begins to clump, adding more water if necessary.  Turn the dough out onto a counter and form into a mound.  Using the heel of your hand, gradually push all of the dough away from you in short forward strokes, flattening out the lumps.  Continue until all of the dough is flat.  Using a bench scraper, scrape the dough off the counter, forming it into a single clump as you do.  Form the finished dough into a thick disk.  Chill for at least 30 minutes.

To roll out, let dough warm up for a moment or two.  Butter/spray a 10-inch removable bottom tart pan and set it aside.  Roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface into a circle that is about 1/8- to 1/6–inch thick and with a diameter 2 to 3 inches larger than that of the pan.  Trim any ragged edges.  Brush off the excess flour and fold the dough circle in half.  Transfer it to the prepared pan.  Unfold the dough and ease it into the pan being careful not to stretch it.  Press the dough against the sides of the pan (being sure not to stretch the dough) and cut the dough off flush with the edge of the tart pan.  Chill for at least 30 minutes.

To blind bake, line the pastry with aluminum foil or parchment paper, pressing it into the corners and edges.  Add a layer of pie weights or dried beans.  Bake in a 400° to 425° oven for 20 to 25 minutes.  When the pastry begins to color on the edges and is cooked through, remove the foil and weights and continue baking until the pastry dries out and turns a golden brown (another 5 minutes or so).

Printable Version

Springtime “Salade Lyonnaise”

If you like salad…and poached eggs…you have probably sampled a classic Salade Lyonnaise at least once.  For those who might never have had one (and who like the sound of salad with a poached egg), Salade Lyonnaise (sometimes called a Salade Frisée aux Lardons) is a delicious salad comprised of bitter greens (typically dandelion or frisée), chewy chunks of bacon (lardons), and freshly fried garlicky croutons—all tossed with a sharp and tangy vinaigrette (heavy on the shallots and mustard)…and topped with a drippy-yolked poached egg. 

As you dive in, the liquid yolk mingles with the vinaigrette, coating everything with rich, tangy deliciousness.  It is bacon, eggs and toast turned into a salad.  I think it is one of the best salads ever conceived.

I have no idea when I started preparing a springtime riff on this amazing concoction, but I do know the reason:  In the spring my refrigerator always has a big “vase” of asparagus

(if you aren’t storing your asparagus upright, in a container of water, you should be…it lasts much longer this way)…and I love asparagus with eggs (and bacon).  It just seemed to make sense to add some blanched asparagus spears to my springtime bowl of greens, bacon and egg.

Somewhere along the line I started adding toasted walnuts to the salad instead of croutons.  To be honest this was probably a move of convenience.  I tend to eat this salad on evenings when I’m tired.  Toasting and crumbling a few walnuts is easier than cutting and frying croutons…  at least it is to me.  In any case, I love walnuts with asparagus, so it is a switch that pleases my palate.  Although, if frying croutons (you can use the pan in which you fried the bacon) doesn’t seem like extra work to you, then you should do it.  The salad is, I think, delicious either way.

It was my Instagram feed that made me realize that I needed to post the recipe for this salad on my blog.  (I mentioned it in an early blog post, but didn’t include a recipe.)  As I posted the picture of my salad last week on Instagram I had a niggling feeling that I had posted a similar image not too long ago.  As I scrolled back, I saw that a few weeks earlier, I had indeed posted the same salad.  



In the first picture I had included a few roasted potatoes (I must have been especially hungry on that particular night.  The potatoes are a great way to increase the substance of this salad for a larger appetite.)—but it was essentially the same salad.  As I brushed off the thought that my eating habits were a bit boring, it occurred to me that the absence of this salad on my blog was a glaring omission. 

I don’t think that you really need a recipe for this salad—just the idea.  I am of course giving the recipe as I tend to make it, but I encourage you to make it your own.  To help you get started, here are a few pointers:  As I mentioned above, the salad should have a sharp and tangy vinaigrette.  You can make mine…or any classic shallot and Dijon heavy French-style vinaigrette.  As far as the greens go, I rarely have frisée or dandelion on hand.  I almost always have arugula though.  This adds the requisite bitterness to the salad, so I almost always include that.  Otherwise, any perky and beautiful salad green that you find at your farmer’s market should be just fine.  



(Make sure it has been washed, spun dry and chilled for a while so that it will be nice and crisp.)  If you can get 1/2-inch thick slices of bacon from the meat counter at your grocery store—and are thinking ahead (I never am)—by all means do so.  Cut them crosswise in half inch slices and you will have true lardons. Otherwise, just use thick or extra thick sliced bacon and cook so it still has a bit of chew.  And of course...make sure you use best quality, farm fresh eggs (from a local grower)—those rich, golden yolks make all the difference.  Finally, make this salad while local asparagus is abundant and delicious. 

Springtime “Salade Lyonnaise” with Asparagus & Walnuts

For one person (multiply as needed):

1 1/2 to 2 oz. (1 slice thick or extra thick bacon), cut crosswise in 1/2- to 1-inch pieces

2 to 4 oz. (trimmed weight) asparagus, cut into 2- to 3-inch lengths on a short diagonal

1/4 c. (about 1 oz.) walnuts

2 handfuls (about 2 to 2 1/2 oz.) lettuce (try to include some crisper greens as well as something a bit bitter)

1 large egg, at room temperature

Vinaigrette, to taste (below)

Place the bacon in a non-stick pan set over moderate to medium-low heat.  Cook, tossing/stirring occasionally until the fat is mostly rendered and the bacon is golden.  It should be chewy, not crisp.  Transfer to paper towels to drain and set the pan aside.

While the bacon cooks, toast the walnuts in a 350° oven until fragrant and golden—about 5 minutes.  Set aside to cool.  When cool enough to handle, break into medium pieces.  If you like, drizzle with a small amount of olive oil and season with salt.  Blanch the asparagus until just tender in a pot of boiling salted water (about 2 to 5 minutes).  Lift out and spread on towels to cool.

When the bacon, asparagus and walnuts are ready, poach the egg: add a tablespoon of vinegar to a quart of simmering water (in a heavy bottomed sauce pan).  Crack the egg into a ramekin and gently tip it into the water.  Don’t let the water boil or even really simmer.  If you have an instant read thermometer, the temperature of the water should be about 200°.  Let the egg stay in the water until the yolk is just beginning to thicken.  This should take about four minutes.  Using a slotted spoon, lift the egg out of its poaching bath and give it a gentle poke with your finger. It should be softly bouncy...but not firm…I think 4 minutes is about perfect.  (If you have never poached an egg, check out my “how to”/basics post.)

While the egg is poaching, place the greens in a bowl and season with salt & pepper.  Just before the egg is done, dress everything….drizzling with just enough of the vinaigrette to coat and tossing well with your hands.  You may dress the asparagus, walnuts and bacon separately…or add them to the bowl with the lettuce and toss everything together. If you like, you may drizzle in some of the bacon fat, too.  Mound everything on a plate, leaving a little divot in the center to hold the egg. 

When the egg is done to your liking, use a slotted spoon to lift it out of the poaching liquid.  I like to give the egg a gentle blot with a paper towel, but it isn’t strictly necessary.  Place the egg on the salad, season it with salt and pepper and drizzle a bit more vinaigrette, or bacon fat (or both) over the whole salad.  Serve right away.

Additions:

• Add 3 or 4 oz. of roasted new or fingerling potatoes to the salad.
• Since I don’t add croutons to this version of the salad, I like to serve it with buttered toast. Choose a nice, hearty, artisanal bread for your toast.

Vinaigrette:

2 T. red wine vinegar

1 T. sherry vinegar

3 to 4 T. minced shallot

2 t. Dijon mustard

1/2 to 3/4 t. Kosher salt

1/2 c. olive oil

Place the vinegars and shallots in a small bowl (or in the cup of an immersion blender if you would like a smooth, well-emulsified vinaigrette).  Let sit for 5 minutes or so to give the shallots a chance to soften.  Add the Dijon and a half teaspoon of kosher salt.  Whisk (or blend) until the Dijon is completely incorporated.  Add the oil in a thin stream while whisking (blending) constantly.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt.  

If you made the vinaigrette with the blender, it will remain emulsified.  If you used a whisk, it will need re-whisking prior to use.  The dressing keeps well for several days in the fridge.  If it solidifies (transfer to a jar with a tight fitting lid), soften by placing the jar in a bowl of warm water.  Re-whisk before using.  

Printable Version

Kale Strata with Italian Sausage

Most of the classes I teach during the holidays feature the festive…sometimes labor intensive…foods that most of us associate with the weeks between Thanksgiving and New Year’s.  But occasionally I tuck in a class that is all about making the season a little bit easier on the cook.  Next week I will be teaching a class with a slate of quick weeknight meals.  This week I taught a class featuring foods to make or keep on hand when your house is filled with out of town guests.

One of the recipes in the class was for a strata filled with kale and Italian sausage.  I think perhaps a lot of people have grown up with stratas…often called a breakfast casserole….  But I did not.  I didn’t have a strata until well into my adulthood (and my cooking career).  The first one I tasted was one I made—a “savory bread pudding” filled with asparagus and goat cheese.  It was delicious. 

And of course, that’s exactly what strata is…a savory bread pudding.  As the word strata implies, traditional versions of this dish are made by layering sliced, stale bread with cooked fillings (meats and vegetables) and cheese. In the version I make, the bread is cubed and tossed (or layered) with the other ingredients.  



Both styles then get soaked with an egg-rich custard.  



The dish is left to sit for at least half an hour before baking (so the bread can have a chance to absorb the custard)…and can be left in the fridge overnight.  And therein is the thing that makes it so appropriate for feeding houseguests.  You can make the whole thing ahead—and whether you are feeding it to people for breakfast, brunch, lunch or dinner (it is appropriate for all of these), when you are ready to eat, you just pop it in the oven.  It’s ready in an hour—during which time you can do other things with your guests—or make something simple to serve with it (green or raw vegetable salad, roasted potatoes, etc.).

In my classes, I always teach specific recipes—but the recipes are often intended to be a vehicle for teaching basic techniques, standard methods and classic formulas/ratios. To my mind, this is how I can best help people to learn how to really cook.   So I was especially pleased when, while working on my strata recipe, I ran across a post at epicurious.com about how to make a strata without a recipe.  The author of the article offered a basic formula for the components of the dish, along with an outline of how to put it all together.  I don’t agree with her on all the details, but I think the article is excellent and definitely worth reading.

The basic idea presented in the article is that you can ratio all of your components from the volume of your bread.  I have adapted the formula to suit my preferences as follows:  For every cup of bread, I add a half cup of cooked fillings, a quarter cup (1 oz.) of grated cheese, and 1cup of custard. 

The custard is of course just a mixture of eggs and dairy.  You will find stratas that have as little as 2 eggs for every cup of dairy…and some that have 4 eggs for every cup (basically equal quantities of egg and dairy).  The higher the percentage of eggs, the firmer the resulting strata will be.  I prefer a slightly softer set and use roughly 2 1/2 eggs for every cup of dairy.  As for the dairy, almost every strata recipe I have ever seen uses all milk.  But I add just a touch of heavy cream.  That first savory bread pudding I made (mentioned above) included a small amount of cream…and it was exceptional.  It’s a bit counterintuitive, but that little bit of extra fat makes the strata seem even lighter.

I thought my kale and sausage strata was delicious…and I hope you will give it a try.  But I hope you will feel free to experiment, using the recipe as a template, too....taking simple things from your pantry—stale bread, eggs, milk, cheese—and using them as a starting point to create a satisfying and delicious meal.  

Savory Kale Strata

1 large bunch kale (Red Russian, Siberian or Tuscan), stems stripped away (you should have about 150 g./1/3 lb. trimmed leaves) and leaves rinsed in several changed of water

1 T. olive oil, plus more as needed

1/2 lb. bulk Italian sausage (or 2 links, casings removed)

1 yellow onion (about 5 oz.), finely diced (1 c.)

1 t. minced rosemary

1/2 lb. day-old bread, crust intact, cut into 1-inch cubes (5 c.)

1 c. (4 oz.) coarsely grated Gruyère (or other well-flavored melting cheese)

1/3 c. (1 oz.) grated Parmesan

8 eggs

2 1/2 c. milk

3/4 c. heavy cream

1 t. kosher salt

Freshly cracked black pepper

Butter a 2 1/2- to 3-quart shallow and wide casserole or baking dish and set aside.

Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to the boil.  Add the kale and cook until just tender—about 6 to 7 minutes.  Lift the kale out of the pot and spread on a baking sheet to cool.  When cool enough to handle, gently squeeze out the excess water.  Chop very coarsely and set aside. 

While the kale cooks, place a tablespoon of olive oil in a cold, wide sauté pan.  Crumble in the sausage and set the pan over medium heat.  Cook, stirring occasionally, until the sausage is cooked through—about 8 to 10 minutes.  Using a slotted spoon, lift out the sausage and transfer to a plate.

Return the pan to medium heat.  Add the onion and rosemary along with a good pinch of salt.  Sweat, stirring occasionally, until the onion is tender and beginning to caramelize a bit on the edges—about 10 to 15 minutes.  If the pan appears to be dry at any time while the onion cooks (because the sausage was very lean) add a drizzle of oil.  When the onion is ready, add the kale and toss/stir to coat in the onions.  Let the mixture sizzle and cook for a minute or two to allow the flavors to blend.  Set aside to cool.

Place the bread, sausage, kale-onion mix, the Parmesan and all but a small handful of Gruyère in a large bowl.  Toss so that everything is evenly distributed.  Transfer to the prepared baking dish.

Crack the eggs into the same bowl and whisk until smooth.  Whisk in the milk, cream, 1 t. of salt and several grindings of pepper.  Pour the egg mixture over the bread and mix ins.  Jiggle the dish a bit to make sure everything is evenly distributed.  Press down on any bread that isn’t coated in custard.  Cover the dish with plastic wrap and let sit at room temperature for 30 to 60 minutes.  (Or, transfer to the fridge and chill overnight…let sit at room temperature for an hour or two before baking.)

Remove the plastic wrap and once again, lightly press down on the bread (using a spatula or fork) to make sure everything is submerged or coated in the custard.  Scatter the reserved cheese over all.  Cover the pan with a buttered and tented piece of foil and transfer to a 350° oven. 

Bake covered for about 30 minutes.  Remove the foil and continue to bake until the strata is bubbling around the edges and the custard is set in the center (the tip of a paring knife inserted in the center will come out clean and an instant read thermometer will read between 160° and 180°)—another 15 minutes or so. If the strata is not browned to your liking, run under the broiler for a minute or two (watch carefully so it won’t burn). 

Let the strata rest at room temperature for 10 to 15 minutes before serving.  Serves 8.

Notes/Variations:

• Substitute 1 1/4 c. diced ham for the sausage. 
• Substitute milk for some or all of the heavy cream.
• This recipe is a template for any strata.  For every 5 cups of bread you will need about 5 cups of custard (eggs and dairy combined) and 2 1/2 c. total mix ins (this recipe has 1 1/4 cup each cooked kale & cooked sausage).

Printable Version

French-Style Baked Eggs (Oeufs en Cocotte) with Spring Onions

I love eggs.  I love them on things, in things…and all by themselves.  I can’t imagine a life without eggs.  They really are a perfect food.  Over the years I have written countless posts that feature eggs…from the simple (poached, fried, baked on a bed of vegetables)...to the more complex (frittatas, tortillas, quiche, savory bread pudding)…to desserts where eggs play a prominent and irreplaceable role (ice creams, custards, tarts, bread & butter puddings).  I am not alone in my feelings. Yesterday as I was reading some of the tributes written about Anthony Bourdain, I happened across his thoughts on eggs:  “An egg in anything makes it better.”  Quite so.

I have for years included a classic French egg dish (Oeufs en Cocotte) in my spring brunch class.  I have always intended to post a recipe for this dish, but have refrained for a couple of reasons.  The first is that versions of this recipe can be found everywhere….both in cookbooks and on line.  But this of course has not stopped me with other classic recipes when I thought I had something to add to the conversation.  So the main reason is really the second one.  And that is that this dish is deceptive in its simplicity.  It requires being engaged with your senses in a way that is difficult to describe.  I can give some guidelines…but you will have to practice getting it done just to your liking in your kitchen…with your equipment.  (As one writer said when describing how to know when an egg en cocotte is done:  It’s “…the egg dish that's done when it's done.”) The good news is that you will get to eat eggs while you practice.   And since Oeufs en Cocotte are fantastic for brunch…or lunch…or dinner—accompanied by all kinds of delicious vegetable and meat side dishes—you should be able to create lots of opportunities to practice. 

The nuts and bolts of method for Oeufs en Cocotte are easy to describe:  Butter a ramekin. Add a few cooked vegetables.  My favorite thing is softly cooked leeks or spring onions…and a little cream—but you could add almost anything:  cooked greens, a vegetable medley like ratatouille, mushroom duxelles, a bit of ham or smoked salmon, a thick tomato compote, etc…

When you place your garnish in the ramekin, make a little divot on the center.  This will help center the yolk.  Crack an egg into a small dish and then tilt the egg into the prepared ramekin, being careful to center the yolk as much as you can. 

Pour a little cream over the top…or add a dab of butter…and season lightly with salt and pepper.  Place the ramekins in a baking dish lined with a towel.  When you are ready to bake, add boiling water to the pan to come half way up the sides of the ramekins.  Cover with foil and bake, uncovering a couple minutes before you think they will be done.  When they are done, serve right away (with buttered toast).    

So what exactly is “done?”  To me these eggs are perfect when the white is just set—but still a bit delicate and trembly—and the yolks are a barely thickened liquid.  Some people like them when the whites are a bit more solid and the yolk is even more thickened.  But this difference is a narrow window—and either way is, as far as I am concerned, a successfully baked Oeuf en Cocotte.  Visually you can tell when the white is done—it will go from clear to white.  Even if you have poured a thin film of cream over the top, you will still be able to see when this happens.  The problem is that once this happens, the yolk will be well on its way to setting too.  (Whites begin to coagulate between 144° and 149° and yolks begin to coagulate between 149° and 158°.  From 160° to 180° the whole egg gets progressively firmer until it becomes fully coagulated and hard.)  Herein lies the rub—an uncooked white is unappetizing…and an overcooked yolk, while not unappetizing, is not the goal of this dish.  If you pull your eggs out of the oven too soon, the white will be undercooked…too late, and the yolk will be hard…and the length of time between these two outcomes might be just a minute or two.

I have given an oven temperature and a range of cooking time in my recipe below—but this is just to get you in the ball park.  You will need to look at the eggs....perhaps prod the surface of the egg with your finger…or jiggle the ramekin itself to see if the eggs are where you want them. When you are first getting started, inserting an instant read thermometer in the white (right next to the yolk…but not in the yolk, as this will cause the yolk to break before it gets to the eater) will tell you a couple of things.  It will give you a temperature—I think you should be around 155°—and it will give you the added visual clue that the egg is done because when the white is done, the tip of the probe will come out clean (you can use a paring knife to test this latter thing if you don’t have an instant read thermometer).   And of course it is important that you do all of this checking quickly so that your oven temperature doesn't drop drastically.

The eggs bake best in a moderate to moderately hot oven.   They will bake well at higher temperatures, but your window of time when they are just right will be narrower.  You will have a much wider window of time if the temperature is low—but too low and they will take a longer and much more unpredictable length of time to bake (you and your fellow eaters will be standing around, tapping your toes, while the toast gets cold as you wait).

It is for this latter reason that you want to make sure your water bath (the point of which is to stabilize the ambient cooking temperature—helping the eggs to cook uniformly, protecting the edges of the egg until the center bakes) is made with boiling water (not just tap water).  Loading a full pan of hot tap water into the oven will significantly lower the temperature of the oven and lengthen your cooking time by an unpredictable amount. 

By the same logic, if you are feeding a crowd…and perhaps putting a very large pan—or two or three smaller pans—of eggs into the oven, you might want to start out at a higher oven temperature (a sufficient volume of boiling water will still lower the oven temperature).  When I prepare 32 eggs in 4 to 6 pans (in two ovens) for my classes, I bump the oven temperatures up to a 450° to 500° starting point.  I am able to observe with an oven thermometer that the oven temperature drops almost immediately after I put the pans in the ovens to below 400°.   Some ovens recover well enough that you don’t need to alter the temperature for a large number…or be careful to heat your water to boiling.  All ovens are different.  If you bake/cook a lot, you probably already know if you will need to make some of these adjustments.  If you don’t know, then making Oeufs en Cocotte would be a great exercise in getting to know your oven better. 

One final observation.  I have seen several recipes that encourage you to put two eggs per ramekin for “larger appetites.”  This seems like a bad idea to me since it will necessarily put egg whites in the center of the ramekin….and not the yolks.  Since the center will be the last spot to come up to a coagulating temperature.  Keeping the yolks runny in this situation will probably mean that there will be undercooked white in the center.  While true that the yolks coagulate at a slightly higher temperature than the whites…and it might be technically possible to get the whites in the center set and still have two runny yolks…this would be a difficult thing to pull off.

If all of this is more detailed information than you like, I would encourage you to just print the recipe and jump in.  If you have difficulties in your first attempt, then return and read the above tips (which will make much more sense after you have some practice).  I would never want an excess of explanation to discourage anyone from trying to make Oeufs en Cocotte.  Once you have made them a time or two you will know that they are actually quite easy.  And they are a classic that belongs in everyone’s repertoire…perfect for a festive brunch…or a dinner for one when you are feeling under the weather…or just when you feel like pampering yourself.  

 French-style Baked Eggs with Spring Onions

1 c. thinly sliced spring onions (use roughly equal quantities of white and green)

1 to 2 T. thinly sliced green garlic (optional)

1 T. unsalted butter
6 T. Heavy cream
4 large eggs (room temperature)

Preheat oven to 375˚F.  Butter 4 4 oz. ramekins or custard cups.  Line a roasting pan with a kitchen towel or a double thickness of paper towels and place the custard cups in the roasting pan.  Set aside.
 

In a medium-sized sauté pan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the spring onions and green garlic and toss to coat in the butter.  Add a pinch of salt, cover and cook over low heat until the onions are wilted and tender. If they release a lot of liquid as they cook, uncover during the last few moments of cooking to allow the liquid to evaporate.  Set aside briefly to cool.  (The onions may be cooked ahead.  Cover and refrigerate.  Bring to room temperature before proceeding with the recipe.) 

Divide the onion mixture among the buttered ramekins.  Spread the mixture out, mounding it up a bit around the edges—you are making a "nest" for the egg that will help center the yolk.  Drizzle 1/2 T. of cream into each ramekin.

One at a time, crack eggs into a small bowl and then transfer the egg to a ramekin, centering the yolk as much as possible as you do.  

Carefully pour a tablespoon of cream over each egg.  Sprinkle each sparingly with salt. 

Pour boiling water into the roasting pan until it comes up to the same level as the eggs in the ramekins.  Cover the pan with foil.  Bake for 10 minutes.  Uncover and continue to bake until the white is opaque and just barely set—the yolk should still be liquid—another 2 to 4 minutes. (If you like, you make carefully insert an instant read thermometer into the white right next to the yolk—be careful not to pierce the yolk.  (The temperature should read somewhere between 155° and 160° for jiggly white and liquid yolk.)  Remove the pan from the oven.  The eggs will hold in their hot water bath for a few minutes.  If you know you will need to hold them, undercook them slightly as they will continue to cook as they sit.  They should be served as soon as possible.  Sprinkle each with a bit of freshly ground black pepper and serve with buttered toast.

Serves 4

Notes & Variations:

• You will probably have to experiment with baking times in your oven. I have given what works in my oven. Classically, oeufs en cocotte are baked uncovered, but this produces a hard surface and an undercooked white in my oven. You will find some sources that recommend as little as 7 minutes baking time (Julia Child). The initial temperature of your eggs will also make a difference—if your eggs are refrigerator cold, consider allowing them to sit in a bowl of hot tap water for a few minutes before cracking them into the saucers. 
• If you like, sprinkle a bit of finely grated Parmesan or Pecorino over the egg before baking. 
• The onions may be omitted for the simplest of baked eggs. 
• Replace the onions with the same quantity of thinly sliced leek—one leek should yield a cup of thinly sliced leeks. 
• Instead of onions, any finely cut, cooked vegetable may be used—diced sautéed mushrooms, a spoonful of ratatouille, minced braised artichokes, a few cooked fresh peas, etc. 
• You may bake as many or as few ramekins at one time as you like (a French-style baked egg makes a wonderful lunch for one!). Simply adjust the size of the pan that you use for your hot water bath accordingly. For a baked egg for one, you could use a small oven-proof sauté pan or a metal pie pan. For two or three, a medium-sized sauté pan works well. Etc.

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