My Favorite Breakfasts by Alison Roman

One question I receive frequently is, “what is Alison really good at?” My answers always include a rambly list about things like roast chickens and middle eastern spices, before I usually arrive at “breakfast!” 

She’s really good at breakfast. Like me, she prefers savory over sweet. No pancakes or waffles (I know she released a pancake recipe in a newsletter recently, but her cookbook has none of that). I find myself craving and returning to her breakfasts almost more than any other type of recipe. And no one seems to mind. 

All of her breakfast recipes (found in Dining In) are worth making. I plan to eat all of them again. Some of them I've even made three or four times each in the past year. While every breakfast recipe deserves its moment in the sun, these three are bound to show up in my kitchen many more times in the years to come. 

1. Baked Eggs with Crushed Chickpeas, Chorizo, and Bread Crumbs. I’ve tried it with chorizo and spicy italian sausage, and chorizo easily wins the day. Or should I say the dish. Spicy sausage is just a little too spicy. Chorizo hits the perfect balance of salt to spice. There’s a lot more I have to say about this recipe, but I’ll just leave you with the link to my blog post about it (above). 

2. Crispy Kimchi and Cheddar Omelette. It’s as simple as a scrambled egg omelette with cheddar and kimchi (don’t you love obvious recipe titles?). But who else has thought to put kimchi in an omelette? Right. Exactly. 

3. Matzo Brei. Matzo crackers come in a box of 10, which left me with a pleasant dilemma after my first go at matzo brei. What to do with the leftover 8 crackers? More matzo brei, of course! I haven’t strayed from the matzo breaking and soaking methods I tried initially (read more in the link), but I continue to turn the heat down more and let the onions spend even longer time over the stove to truly caramelize. The reward is absolutely worth the wait.  

Savory Barley Porridge with Parmesan and Soy by Alison Roman

Jordan and I spent our first two years of marriage living in Berkeley, CA. We rented an apartment that was approximately 400 square feet, which we lovingly called “the shoebox.” It should have been a studio, but in classic Bay Area fashion, they put a wall in the middle so they could call it a one-bedroom and charge more rent. The kitchen had a small stove and oven with one rack that couldn’t fit standard-sized baking sheets. Cooking took longer with less oven space to work with, but we made do. We shared one tiny closet, had no heating or air conditioning, and still, loved living there. 

Most Saturday mornings, Jordan could be found at his desk (it took up a third of our living room) studying. These were some of my favorite mornings because I could spend them any way I liked. Sometimes I’d go to the farmer’s market, sometimes Philz Coffee, but more often than not, I walked over to Acme Bread. Acme is primarily a bakery with a constantly long line of people waiting to purchase bread, no matter the day of the week. They converted a small room off the side of the bakery into a coffee bar where you can order from a very short, locally-sourced food and drink menu. Most weekends, I ordered coffee and sweet porridge, a blend of various grains, cooked in whole milk with housemade jam and shaved almonds on top. I ate it slowly and read a book or people-watched after the many characters that came to stand in the bakery line. 

a polaroid of me at Acme Bread

Acme also served a savory porridge, but I never had the guts to try it. I just couldn’t get behind eating salty grains for breakfast. Which is why it took me eleven months to finally cook Alison’s savory porridge. Of course, I’m going to say that (surprise) it’s actually really good, and I wouldn’t mind making it again. But you knew that was coming. To me, savory porridge is the right breakfast for mornings when you don’t want to eat right away, but you have the energy and the time to stand by the stove for a while. Personally speaking, I don’t have many mornings like that, so porridge will have to be a rarer occasion. 

Alison provides us with many topping options for this porridge, most of which I followed to great contentment. While the barley and millet cooked, I assembled the toppings. I had leftover mushrooms on hand from Alison’s Chicken Soup, which I sauteed. I had an extra leaf of swiss chard from re-making Alison’s Harissa-Rubbed Pork (a true winner). I tossed in some leftover scallions and some briefly toasted buckwheat groats. I tried to poach an egg, to great failure. I salvaged the yolk, but most of the egg whites were scattered about in the water. Someday I’ll figure out how to properly poach an egg, but this day was not that day. 

Parmesan and soy sauce are what make this porridge from a flavor standpoint. I even found myself adding more soy sauce than is called for to my bowl. All in all, it was a delightful breakfast, not to mention a filling one. I felt very “Bay Area” while eating it. 

Pro tip: If porridge leftovers aren’t exactly something you want to eat, then I recommend dividing the recipe by the exact amount of people who will eat it. I.e. If you’re going to eat this by yourself, I think it’s safe to make a fourth recipe. 

195 recipes cooked, 30 to go.

Luckiest Biscuits in America by Alison Roman

These biscuits mark a really lucky moment in Alison’s life. A moment that changed everything. A moment made by the convergence of hard work, years of training and preparation, courageous risk taking, and a bowl of lucky biscuit dough. A moment you can hope for, prepare for, but never plan. 

These biscuits got me thinking about my own lucky moments, where my hard work paid off in an unexpected way. Though I can’t think of any one significant biscuit moment, I can remember many smaller instances where my work paid off in a way I didn’t foresee. Like the time I decided to order a few extra bottles of product for a photoshoot, just in case, and we ended up needing them because the original product got damaged. Or that time I decided to make two batches of chili instead of one in case more people showed up, and what do you know, they did. 

One lucky moment happened this week that had nothing to do with me. Just two nights ago on Thanksgiving, my mom got up from the couch where my dad and brother were sitting and went into her bedroom. After a bit of time, my brother had the lucky instinct to go check on her. He found her in extreme pain, lying in fetal position on her bed. She wasn’t sure what to make of the pain, and was waiting to see what would happen next. As the pain quickly spread from her chest to her right arm, they decided to drive her to the ER. They had the lucky hunch that this wasn’t indigestion. She was having a mild heart attack. 

It’s lucky that they went in when they did. The doctor said if they had waited another hour, things could have ended up much worse. She’s in the hospital now, waiting for various enzymes and chemicals to go back down. But luckily there seems to be no permanent damage done to her heart. No plaque or clogged arteries. We’re lucky it wasn’t something more. We feel like the luckiest family in America. 

With my family far away in California, and myself living in Chicago, there’s nothing I can do but pray and answer the phone when someone calls. It’s in these “useless” moments when I’m most thankful for cooking. Something to do with my hands that feels nurturing and productive. This morning, I didn’t know what else to do but make lucky biscuits. 

Though I’ve only made biscuits a handful of times, the process is largely similar to pie crust, and therefore quite familiar to me now. I used gluten-free flour and xanthan gum, but regular butter and buttermilk. I broke down the cold butter between my thumbs and forefingers, like rubbing a dog’s ear (thanks for the tips, Margaret). I drizzled the buttermilk in and kneaded the dough a few times, then patted it into a square to be cut. The squares sat on a parchment-lined baking sheet as I drizzled more buttermilk and flaky sea salt on top. They spent a total of 27 minutes in the oven, rotating once halfway through. 

These biscuits were fluffy, buttery, layered, with crispy edges - just as Alison promised. And given all that’s happening today, these biscuits sure felt lucky to me. 

175 recipes cooked, 50 to go.

Blueberry Cake with Almond and Cinnamon by Alison Roman

It’s softer than any coffee cake. It’s richer than any fruit crumble. It’s more nuanced than any other fruit cake. It takes the cake, because it is THE cake. This blueberry cake with almond and cinnamon is wonderful. 

Allow me to highlight the aspects of this cake that really set it apart: 

1. Almond flour – The recipe utilizes a mixture of almond flour and regular all-purpose, which lends a nutty depth to the batter. Almond flour also makes the crumb slightly more dense than other breakfast cakes. And for those of you wondering, I did swap the all-purpose flour with gluten-free all-purpose flour. I also added an extra egg and a 1/4th tsp. of Xanthan gum. The conversion worked beautifully. 

2. Cinnamon – When Madeline took her first bite, the next words out of her mouth were, “ooo the spices!” To which I responded, “it’s actually just cinnamon!” But I agreed with her – somehow this tasted like a nice blend of spices. Nutmeg and a dash of allspice, maybe? Perhaps it’s the almond flour that gave it the depth. No matter the cause, the cinnamon really transformed this cake from a straightforward berry cake to one with depth. 

3. Amount of fresh blueberries – Two whole cups! Blueberries bursting in every bite. This helped keep the cake moist. There weren’t any real dry patches, save for a few tiny ones at the very edges of the cake. FYI, I think using frozen blueberries here are a real no-go, unless you’re willing to totally thaw and drain them first. 

4. Sugar on top – To give it a crackly texture on top, Alison instructs you to sprinkle 3 tbsp. of granulated sugar over the cake’s surface before baking. The sugar hardens and forms cracks along the top, giving it a nice textural contrast and a punch of sweet in every bite. 

I loved this cake. I can especially see this coming in handy when I need to contribute to a breakfast or brunch of some kind. It’s a crowdpleaser. But I’m also just as willing to make it for myself on a random Wednesday. I’ll have no problem eating it on my own.

80 recipes cooked, 145 to go.

Avocados with Everything by Alison Roman

I grew up in sunny Southern California, where citrus is cheap and avocados are aplenty. Californian cuisine is famous for finding creative ways to incorporate avocados into just about any recipe (and charging you an extra $3 for it too). My aunt and uncle who live in Redlands have a backyard full of avocado trees, and a few times a year we’d come home from a visit carrying a large grocery bag full of unripened avocados. We’d wait patiently for at least a week, checking them every morning to see if they were ready for a bowl of guacamole yet. Those were special days. 

I’ve only been to New York once, and there I ate the best bagel I’ve ever had. An Everything bagel, toasted, with chive cream cheese. My breath smelled awesome for the rest of the day. I’m a sucker for anything super salty and umami-y, so naturally the Everything bagel is my favorite. (Since going Gluten-Free, I tried to make my own sourdough bagels with Everything-but-the-bagel seasoning. Sadly, my attempt thoroughly failed. I’ll try again someday with a different recipe.)

Combine my hometown and one of my all-time vacation spots, and what do you get? Avocados with Everything! Half an avocado, sprinkled with lemon juice, and Everything seasoning. Eat with a spoon for breakfast, lunch, or a snack. It’s ripe with nostalgia. 

79 recipes cooked, 146 to go.