I may well have invented avocado toast in 1990.
Or at least a version of avocado toast.
Take one oversized everything-on bagel.
Toast it.
Spread the bagel halves with perfectly ripe smashed avocado.
Top with salsa.
Make a giant sandwich, cut in half and share.
In our tiny first kitchen, truly the size of a closet, this quick and simple “dinner” became a go-to at least three or four times a week. When avocado toast became a “thing” in 1993 in Australia by way of the late lamented Bill Granger, it was already old hat to us.
It was the first in a trend of finding an easy dish and putting it on repeat. Mushroom stroganoff with tofu from a box was another popular weeknight meal. Back then, when we went out for dinner, the theme was decidedly Asian. At Chung King, our favourite Chinese restaurant, we ordered the same four dishes: vegetarian spring rolls, Szechuan shredded beef, garlic broccoli and Singapore noodles. Sushi Garden meant miso soup, edamame, vegetable tempura, a hand roll each and a California roll to share.
Those routines never felt boring. Somehow, the comfort of familiar foods and flavours did the job they were supposed to do: nourish us simply and easily.
The new basics
It was only when we started entertaining in our cozy apartment that I turned to my nascent cookbook collection to try something different. The New Basics, by Sheila Lukins and Julie Rosso, became my best friend in the kitchen.
I've delved into its pages so often that the fat book is held together with a wide elastic band. Unlike many of its successors, The New Basics didn’t aim for sanitized perfection in each recipe. It covers a broad spectrum of cuisines and styles, written in a chatty and personal way to make even the more difficult dishes approachable.
I also started turning the clock back to my mother’s classic recipes, trying my hand at gnocchi and fresh pasta, and starting the first of many iterations of the perfect ragù Bolognese. As our lives expanded and our kitchens grew in size, so did our repertoire.
Back to the future
But old habits die hard.
As much as I love to try new dishes and flavours, there is an undeniable comfort in the familiar. Where a toasted bagel may have been dinner, now it’s just as often a roast chicken, easy and gleaming and delicious. A simply baked rainbow trout is a frequent visitor to our table. There’s usually a big pot of hearty soup on the go during the dreary days of winter, enough for several meals, hearkening back to our routine of make and repeat.
It’s a reminder that comfort comes in many forms, often the ones that we know best. When life is warming up another curve ball, go ahead and make that grilled cheese sandwich or whatever else warms you inside. They’ll always be time for a fancy dish another day.
Fried eggs with breadcrumbs
The Zuni Cafe Cookbook, Judy Rodgers
serves 1
Perhaps the simplest of all dishes that I go back to over and over again is the humble fried egg.
It may be somewhat ironic that the best and simplest preparation I know comes from a cookbook that’s a master class in technique: The Zuni Cafe Cookbook, from the late, great Judy Rodgers. While there are many more complex recipes in this book that I still need to tackle, it’s in recipes like this where Rodger’s genius shines.
These fried eggs with breadcrumbs take a few simple ingredients, a few short minutes and very little technique other than following some simple steps. The red wine vinegar is an unexpected touch and the breadcrumbs make this dish taste like a sophisticated toad in the hole.
It also highlights what I value most from this cookbook: the fact that so many recipes really help focus your attention on the taste and combination of just a few ingredients.
Ingredients
3 tablespoons packed, fresh, soft bread crumbs, made from slightly stale, crustless, chewy, white peasant-style bread
Salt
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
A few marjoram or thyme leaves, or coarsely chopped rosemary (optional)
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon sherry vinegar, red wine vinegar or balsamic vinegar
Sprinkle the crumbs with salt to taste, then drizzle with enough of the oil to just soak them.
Place the crumbs in a 6- to 8-inch French steel omelet pan or nonstick skillet and set over medium heat. (If you like your fried eggs over easy, reserve some of the oiled raw crumbs to sprinkle on the top of the eggs just before you flip them over.) Let the crumbs warm through, then swirl the pan as they begin drying out (which will make a quiet static-like sound). Stir once or twice.
The moment you see the crumbs begin to color, quickly add the remaining oil, and the herbs if using, then crack the eggs directly onto the crumbs. Cook the eggs as you like.
Slide onto a warm plate, then add the vinegar to the hot pan. Swirl the pan once, then pour the drops of sizzling vinegar over the eggs.
Love this one!
So true… roast chicken has always been on repeat, made a hundred different ways. It’s always my answer for “my last meal”.
Great cookbook. My go to cookbook was, and still is, The Silver Palate also by Sheila Lukins and Julie Rosso. Funny enough, my book is falling apart too!