Since I was little, I have loved pretty much all foods made from corn. Cornbread, corn on the cob, popcorn, kettlecorn, cornmeal tart crust. The only exception in all these years has been polenta. I have seen beautiful photos of lamb ragout over cheesy polenta and creamy polenta with chicken and mushrooms, but somehow these don’t tempt me. Then a few weeks ago, I had somewhat of a corn-piphany: I love the sweetness of corn, so a savory application just doesn’t sound as good– no matter how gourmet.
Today’s post is another favorite use for the 6-inch tart crust. This time we’re going savory with an easy quiche recipe to which you can add any fillings you like. The one I made this morning was ham and parmesan, because that’s what I had handy, but you could do any combination of meat/ cheese/ veg that sounds good to you. My personal favorite is baby spinach and artichoke hearts, followed closely by bacon and caramelized onion– too bad I didn’t have any of those in my fridge today…
There are so many ways to fill the tart crust from Thursday’s post. This is one of my favorites for breakfast or dessert during blueberry season (now!) Delightful at room temperature or cold, it can be made the day-of, or the night before and stored in the fridge. The blueberry cheese tart makes a wonderful small brunch with ham, fruit and orange juice. Or use it as a light dessert after a heavier meal.
I love my 8-inch skillet, and this recipe is one big reason. Breakfast for breakfast or breakfast for dinner– whatever you fancy, this frittata will fit the bill. I use a couple of ‘convenience products’ so that it comes together quickly: evaporated milk and frozen shredded hash browns. I also switch out the mix-ins to match my mood. Ham can be bacon or sausage. Green onion can be red or white onion or artichokes or spinach or mushrooms or peppers. Mozzarella cheese can be ricotta or cheddar or Monterrey Jack. Today, we’ll stick with the basics.
These almond cookies are delicious, portable, and not too sweet– perfect for breakfast on the go. I have adapted the recipe from cookforyourlife.org, a website dedicated to healthy recipes for those touched by cancer. They have a wonderful collection that is great for inspiration, and I encourage you to have a look around if you are interested. I love these cookies, since they are a great use for just one egg white (which I often have in my freezer patiently waiting for its moment to shine.)
If you are lucky enough to own a good waffle iron, you are lucky enough! I threw out the first one I owned after college, because it was so stinking hard to clean. But the newer ones are very non-stick coated, plus you can spray them with cooking spray just for good measure. I actually inherited my current iron from a friend when she decided to upgrade. Add this great little recipe that makes exactly one round waffle, and you have all the makings of a tasty Sunday morning. Get out your syrup/ berries/ yogurt/ jam/ peanut butter/ ice cream/ fudge sauce/ peaches/ whipped cream/ chicken strips, because this is the perfect foil.
Wondering what to eat today? This quick, delicious, adaptable biscuit is the answer you’ve been searching for. Well, at least it was the answer I was searching for this morning. The virtues of this biscuit are many, but let’s start with the fact that you don’t cut in any cold butter– an especial pet peeve of mine. Next, it is a drop biscuit, so no flour on your counter top, or dirty rolling pin to clean up. Last, you can change up the flavor in so many ways, depending on the meal and whatever you fancy today. I have the utmost respect for the perfect Southern buttermilk biscuit, which this is not. But sometimes I have even more respect for something lightning-quick and totally delicious, which this is.
Spring is in full swing here at the Small Table. Little S is on spring break from school, the daffodils are blooming, and birds have started chirping (yell-chirping!) outside my bedroom window around 4:30 every morning. All of this calls for some perfect hard-boiled eggs. We like to color them, then devour them with melted cheese on warm buttered toast for dinner. Why do we not hide them, you ask? It’s because in the first grade I ‘hid’ a beautiful colored egg deep in my sock drawer, to ‘keep it safe,’ of course! My mom’s nose led her to it about three weeks later; it was rather traumatic. We had to throw away most of the socks. So, better to enjoy the beauty for a day, and the taste that very night.
I was introduced to this traditional breakfast treat/science experiment by my brother when we were teenagers. I have no idea where he got the recipe, but one Saturday morning while the rest of us were watching cartoons (yep, it was those days) he took a big glass pie plate, poured in some butter and some batter, and amazed us all with his inflatable breakfast. This is great for a morning when you have a little time for luxury, and is also perfect for when you feel like having breakfast for dinner. Serve with some bacon and orange juice, and you’ve got your own little oasis of breakfast bliss.
I’m pretty sure that as a child I never knew some things existed simply because they were not on our family grocery list. One of these things was the turnip. No argument there, actually. Another was the chewy granola bar. When I was in the fifth grade, a friend gave me the extra one from her lunch. The first bite was such a revelation to me– the soft, luscious, oat-y-ness almost melting in my mouth– that I sometimes crave them still. They even seemed just a little healthier than an actual cookie, so that you could (theoretically) eat them more often! Where in the world had these things been all my young life? Not in my lunchbox, that’s for sure.
On Saturday mornings, Mr. Luxury and Little S make pancakes while I am out walking. They always offer me a taste when I walk in, knowing that I will gently demur. I really want to like these pancakes. Really, I do. But it’s the mix-ins, of which they are especially proud, that always give me pause: candy corn, jelly beans, rainbow sprinkles, fruit snacks. I guess I am a maple syrup purist– I really don’t want all that candy fraternizing with my flapjacks.