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05/17/1999 Archived Entry: "Spring Delicacies"

I was so disappointed when I looked at my herb garden this weekend. I was counting on having sorrel to make Baked Eggs with Sorrel, but my one and only sorrel plant had sprouted just a few tiny leaves. Although spring came early to southern New England, a drought has slowed everything down. Local folk wisdom has it that the trees leaf out on Mother’s Day. This year it took an extra week. It’s taking even longer for my sorrel, so while I was broadcasting Food Talk yesterday my herb garden was getting a good, long, saturating drink. Below, I offer the recipe to those of you who can get your hands on some sorrel.

While on the air, I mentioned Iris Carulli’s ramp frittata. Iris is my associate. (You can find a picture of us together on The Maven’s Cookbooks page.) She loves ramps, and she loves making frittatas, so she whipped one up last week to take advantage of the late crop. I noticed that she has actually written up the recipe and put in our files, so I can offer you, in her own words, Iris’ very seasonal recipe.

Ramps are called wild leeks because they are in the lily family (as are leeks, chives, garlic, onions, shallots) and taste somewhere between leeks and garlic. They are one of the first plants to break ground in the spring, so they were used by our ancestors as a spring tonic -- something full of vitamins and minerals that would have been depleted over a long winter of eating the roots from storage. That’s why some southern communities still have ramp festivals in the spring. Ramps are a big deal. Up where I live, in cooler climes, I see ramps growing the parks, but they are also being grown by local farmers. The very last are still available from the farmer’s markets.


Ramp Frittata
Serves 2 to 4


1 bunch (about 12) ramps, washed
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 eggs, lightly beaten
Freshly ground black pepper
a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil


Trim the root ends off the ramps and clean them as you would scallions but without cutting off the green tops. Rinse and soak them in 2 changes of cold water, or until there is no sandy soil left at the bottom of the sink or basin. Drain and pat them dry.

Chop them crosswise into 1/2-inch pieces. You should have about 1 1/2 cups.

In a 9- to 10-inch non-stick skillet, warm the oil over medium high heat. Add the ramps, sprinkle them with salt, and saute them until they have given off their juices.
Meanwhile, in a small bowl beat the eggs with black pepper.

When the ramps are just starting to brown and there is very little or no liquid left, spread them evenly on the bottom of the pan and drizzle with a little more oil.

Pour the eggs over them and reduce the heat to low. Spread the eggs evenly over the sauteed vegetables. Cook until the eggs are set on the bottom and slightly liquid on the top.

Run a spatula around the rim of the frittata and loosen it from underneath. Place a dinner plate as wide as or wider than the skillet over it and, away from the stove, reverse the frittata onto the plate. Return the skillet to the stove and place it over medium low heat again. Add a drizzle of oil to the pan, if necessary, while pushing to the side any bits of vegetable that might have stuck to the pan.

With a rubber spatula slip the frittata back into the skillet, scraping the plate clean of any uncooked egg which you can tuck under the edge of the frittata when it’s back in the pan. Cook for another minute at the most to set the other side. Remove the frittata from the pan and drain it on absorbent paper if desired before serving.




Baked Eggs with Sorrel or Spinach
Serves 4


This started out as Richard Olney’s recipe -- from his book “Simple French Food,” published in 1974. However, I like to think I’ve made it mine. I recently consulted the recipe and found that, although I am making Olney’s recipe in the broad sense, I now make it using proportions that suit my taste, instead of his, and I now make it using spinach instead of sorrel when the latter -- a lemony tasting perennial herb that is sometimes called “sour grass” -- is not in season, which is most of the year. As a family meal, serve the eggs with bread -- nothing else to detract from the treat. Before them serve a light soup and get a salad in there somewhere, or have the eggs precede a thick vegetable soup, perhaps made with pasta or rice..


6 hard-cooked eggs
10 to 12 ounces sorrel or spinach
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Few gratings of nutmeg (only with spinach)
2 to 3 tablespoons olive oil


Cook eggs until just firm throughout. Cool immediately under cold running water, then peel. Set aside.

While eggs are cooking, remove tough stems from sorrel or spinach, then chop greens very finely.

Grease a 9 or 10-inch round, shallow baking dish (or one of roughly equivalent size) with 1 tablespoon olive oil. Spread about a third of the chopped green evenly over bottom of dish.

Cut hard-cooked eggs in half the long way and remove yolks. Place yolks in a mixing bowl. Arrange whites, cut side up, in baking dish.

Break up egg yolks with a fork, then add the chopped green and blend well, adding grated cheese when the mixture is half blended, then the salt, pepper and, to bind the mixture, about 2 tablespoons olive oil. Season spinach with nutmeg, too, if desired. You should have a fairly homogenous mixture that clings together.

Using a teaspoon, fill egg white halves with yolk-green mixture, mounding mixture neatly over tops of whites. Replace whites in pan. (Can be prepared several hours or a day ahead to this point. Cover with plastic and refrigerate. Allow to return to room temperature -- or nearly -- before baking.)

When ready to serve, sprinkle with the tiniest bit of Parmigiano and drizzle with a tiny bit of olive oil -- only if desired -- and bake in a preheated 425-degree oven for 15 minutes. Serve immediately.


MEA CULPA

Jim Leff, otherwise known as Chowhound (see my Links page), plays trombone. He does not play clarinet, as I stupidly say in my description of him. Many of Jim’s fans have called to correct me on this. They are a zealous lot. Jim himself called to correct me on one other matter: Food writing is now a vocation for Jim, not just an avocation. Let’s hope success doesn’t ruin the Chowhound.