Brunch

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.

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.

Buttermilk biscuits are a classic recipe that combines steam leavening and chemical leaveners to optimum effect. They are easily stirred together and rise dramatically in the oven. Slathered with cold butter and drizzled with cane syrup or honey, fresh biscuits are an easy and indulgent way to get your day started. Actually, they are pretty wonderful at any time of day. Buttermilk biscuits on the dinner table bring smiles to people’s faces, and split open and covered with fresh fruit and sweet cream, they are a treat to remember.

We love the dark, rich flavors of the classic dessert bananas Foster. One time when we had an overabundance of bananas we decided that creating a bread featuring these flavors would be ideal. We used muscovado sugar, an intensely flavored sweetener, to help mimic the caramelized notes of the original dish. We combined baking powder and baking soda to maximize our leavening and ensure a light, tender bread. It’s darned good all on its own, but we’ve also used it for French toast and bread pudding with fabulous results. Leftover bread can be toasted or grilled and slathered with butter for an excellent breakfast or snack.

As long as there is starter on your counter, you can make sourdough waffles. These are an admirable way to start the day. Sourdough waffles are extremely light and crisp. They tend to soak up that butter and maple syrup as though they were meant for each other, while their distinctive tang helps balance the sugar and fat. Adding some crunchy bacon bits to the batter takes them up another notch. They make a wonderful base for fruit and ice cream sundaes, topped with chunks of fresh strawberries and bananas and creamy vanilla ice cream. If you want to try something different, serve sourdough waffles under poached eggs, crisp bacon, and hollandaise—it’s the breakfast of champions in our house.

The tang of these doughnuts provides an excellent counterpoint to the cinnamon sugar that coats them. Beware; these doughnuts tend to disappear quickly, especially if there are people in the kitchen when they emerge from the fryer. The doughnuts can also be dipped in warm ganache made with equal parts chocolate and cream. We’ve even been known to turn these into bomboloni by filling them with vanilla pastry cream and serving them with chocolate dipping sauce. Lemon curd or good jelly, perhaps lightened with a little whipped cream, are also nice fillings. A little caramel sauce is never an unwelcome accompaniment, whether the doughnuts are stuffed or plain. But really, the cinnamon sugar does pretty well all by itself. Warm doughnuts are one of life’s special pleasures, and once you experience them, you’ll want to make these again and again.

These sticky buns can be prepped in the skillet the day before, stored in the refrigerator, and baked in the morning for a decadent weekend breakfast indulgence—although they are so good that sometimes we just make them for lunch and ride the sugar high into the afternoon. Soft raisins make a big difference. If yours are dry you may want to soak them in water at least overnight. Instead of rolling out individual buns, we score the top of the bread for easy cutting and bake it as a whole. That way you can control the portion size and the bread itself cooks more evenly—no more doughy centers. We love that.

We love the complex flavors of this puree. We like to serve it with the Twice-Cooked Scallops (page 25). It also goes well with salmon, turkey, corned beef, and the Root Beer–Braised Short Ribs (page 226). The smokiness gives the mixture a rich meaty taste and enhances the sweetness of the dried fruits. Rest assured, though—even if you don’t have smoked fruits, you can use the regular dried version and still enjoy something special.

This recipe is a play on the ubiquitous smoked salmon with cream cheese and a bagel. It was one of our favorite lazy Sunday breakfasts when we were living in New York. Once we moved away from the city, we found that we didn’t always have access to great bagels or smoked salmon. We needed to find a good alternative that was readily available. “Everything” bagels—which typically contain onion, garlic, and several seeds—are our favorite, characterized by their crunchy coating of various seasonings. So we decided to use that flavor profile for cured salmon fillets and cream cheese that we could easily make at home.

This couscous dish, originally made especially by Moroccans at the Maimouna, a post-Passover celebration, has become pan–North African in France now that Tunisians and Algerians are preparing it. They also make this dish, using butter and accompanying it with yogurt, at Shavuot, a late-spring holiday celebrating the giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai and the abundance of milk in the springtime. Sweet couscous can be made with either couscous or rice, although I prefer the texture of the couscous with the raisins and nuts.

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.

After a recent trip to France, I told chef Daniel Boulud that I wanted to learn more about charcuterie. He suggested that I spend a day with Sylvain Gasdon, the charcutier at his newly opened Bar Boulud in New York. It turned out that some of the trends I had been noticing in French restaurants were the foundation of the menu at Bar Boulud, featuring charcuterie and lighter terrines. I asked Sylvain, who came from Paris to help Daniel, if he would teach me how to make a terrine, one for those who eschew pork. This is it!

When I ate dinner at the Home of Nathalie Berrebi, a Frenchwoman living in Geneva, she served this savory quick bread warm and sliced thin, as a first course for a dinner attended by lots of children and adults. For the main course, Nathalie prepared rouget (red mullet) with an eggplant tapenade on top, something all the children loved. The entire dinner was delicious, but I especially liked that savory bread with the unexpected flavor combination of goat cheese, apricots, and fresh mint. Now I often make this quick bread for brunch or lunch and serve it with a green salad.

No bread form is so complety identified with Jews as the bagel, which came from eastern Europe with immigrants, mostly from/Lód´z, Poland, at the turn of the last century. Unlike American bagels, French bagels were rather like rolls that were baked but not boiled. When Euro Disney and the United States Army in Europe wanted bagels in the late seventies, they asked Joseph Korcarz, whose family ran a bakery in the Marais, to go to the United States to learn the commercial technique of boiling the dough before baking. Two older bread forms, however, might shed new light on the origins of the bagel. In the mountains of Savoie, near the Swiss border, an area with few if any Jews today, there is a specialty of the region—an ancient anise-flavored bread called riouttes, which were boiled before baking, a technique that kept the bread fresher a longer time. Riouttes might have come to the mountains with Jews or with Arabs, who make ka’ak (“bracelet” in Arabic), small, round, crispy rolls with a hole, flavored with anise and sesame seeds. Probably the oldest bagel-like roll in France, however, dating back to antiquity, is the Provençal brassado, also called brassadeau. Sweet and round, with a hole in the center, they are also first boiled and then baked, much like bagels. The word brassado is related to the Spanish and Portuguese words for the physical act of an embrace or a hug. The unusual inclusion of floral scents like orange-flower and rose water could be the influence of Jews involved in the perfume industry in Grasse. This particular recipe is an adaptation of brassados found by Martine Yana in her Trésors de la Table Juive.

"There is no such thing as Jewish Alsatian cooking. It is Alsatian cooking,” Chef Gilbert Brenner told me over lunch at his restaurant, Wistub Brenner, with a view over the Lauch River in Colmar, a charming city in southern Alsace that has had a Jewish presence since at least the eleventh century. “Jewish cooks adapted the dietary laws to what was available here,” Monsieur Brenner told me. “France didn’t create dishes. Families created the dishes. It is the cooking of their grandparents and reatgrandparents.” Looking over the menu at Brenner’s popular restaurant, I was taken by this extraordinary leek terrine, which I later learned was put on the menu for Gilbert’s Jewish customers and friends who keep kosher or are vegetarians. During the short asparagus season in the spring, Gilbert substitutes asparagus for the leeks. The recipe is a modern version of very old savory bread puddings, like schaleths (see page 251).

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.

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.