The Most Important Meal of the Day: Cacio Pepe Oatmeal with Spinach

I'll say this first: I never was one for breakfast. It wasn't until the last few years that breakfast has become a must-have. Before then, I could easily sail through the morning on a big cup of coffee and not much else. Maybe I'd throw in a piece of toast, but it usually was just coffee. I was worse in college. My first meal of the day was usually lunch. After, you know, the giant cup of coffee. I never ate breakfast in high school. Now, this doesn't mean I didn't like what was served at breakfast. I love eggs, bacon, pancakes, waffles, fritatas, quiche, sausage, hashbrowns, everything you'll find on any diner menu - I love. But, I have this weird thing where I just cannot bring myself to eat right when I get up. There has to be this delay. I don't understand people who get up and immediately eat. It actually makes me sick to think about it. But I've had to change my tune when I started Weight Watchers, which is when I really started to hone my breakfast skills. Of course, eating a solid breakfast helps combat snacking and helps your blood sugar maintain a steady level through the morning, so it was only natural to start eating breakfast. I used to make a pretty hefty breakfast sandwich with an egg, bacon, and spinach on a whole wheat English Muffin; all together not as point-heavy as you'd think. So, on a daily basis, I've come around to breakfast.

Whenever I bring up what I eat these days for breakfast, I'm usually met by a confused expression on my companion's face. Last year, I came across a section in an issue of Womens Health that was all about oatmeal. It included 4 or 5 different recipes for oatmeal, some sweet and some savory. I tried a few of them and fell in love with one: Cacio e Pepe Oatmeal. Cacio e Pepe, when describing a pasta dish, is simply fresh pasta tossed with Parmesan cheese, lots of freshly ground black pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil. Sounds pretty great, huh? Well, I thought it'd be great, too, for breakfast. It goes without saying that not all oatmeal needs to be sweet. I grew up on the instant packets of Maple Brown Sugar and loved every sugary bite. I never really cared for fruit in my oatmeal; I liked it more plain than chock full of stuff. Before I found this article, I would've never thought to branch out my oatmeal tastes. I never really thought oatmeal could be savory, but I was oh so wrong. The result of my first batch of this particular dish was delicious: creamy, warm, savory, and peppery. It reminded me of a big bowl of cheesy risotto. Originally, I made this with standard rolled oats (never instant). I then made a move to steel-cut and I've never moved away since. I love steel-cut oats: they're chewy and they retain their overall texture when they've been cooked. The only thing against them is that they take a long time to cook, but I've adjusted my morning routine to accommodate the time required. Luckily, it's not like risotto in that you have to keep stirring, but you certainly don't want the pot to go completely dry.

This particular oatmeal dish eventually evolved over time. One of the other recipes in this article was a Florentine-style oatmeal, with Monterey Jack cheese and an egg on top. This seemed a little TOO heavy for every morning, but I loved the idea of adding something green to my bowl. I honestly am not a huge fan of raw spinach, but I'll happily add cooked spinach to pretty much everything I can. So, I snagged the spinach from this other oatmeal dish and added it to mine and I got a dish that was cheesy, creamy, peppery, now with a slight bite/crunch from the wilted spinach. It also turned my rather indulgent breakfast into something much more nutritious. Chock full of protein, iron, and Vitamin C, it keeps me full through the morning. Within the last couple of weeks, this bowl has evolved again. One morning, as I stood at my counter making my breakfast, my eye was caught by the little container of cherry tomatoes. "I wonder..." I grabbed a handful and plopped them on top of everything else. I was pleasantly surprised with the result. As you can probably imagine, this is a very heavy meal. The sweet-tart burst from the cherry tomatoes cuts through the thick oatmeal and really brightens up the meal overall. I love the combination and it's elevated my breakfast into something I eagerly tuck into, instead of picking at while driving to work.

A personal note

A little over a year ago, my cousin, James, unexpectedly passed away. It was sudden and very painful for our family. He was a giant bear of a guy, always quick with a joke, a story, and a big huge hug. Before he passed, he was looking forward to turning 30 and getting married to his fiancé. Instead, our family ended up holding a memorial service for him. It was a simply amazing event, to be honest. He was a sales manager at Google and it seemed that everyone knew who he was. His managers at Google were incredibly generous and offered one of their cafés for the remembrance. The place was packed. The impact he made on everyone was evident. Unfortunately for me, I didn't know my cousin very well. Even though we were only a year apart in age, we led very different lives. I learned a lot about him at his memorial, which, had I the choice, I would've not wanted. I would've wanted to opportunity to get to know him from him. One thing that I had only partially known was his love of food and his passion for cooking. Our grandma once said when my cousin and I were both young that we should open our own restaurant: Micky and Jim's. We laughed about it, but obviously nothing happened. We lived our own separate lives and it wasn't until a year before he died that we attempted to get together as friends. Our schedules never meshed, unfortunately. We did end up running into each other at our local Pizza Antica one night, while looking for a place to take some friends of ours who were in the area. I will say that, for how brief that run-in was with him, it has made a lasting impact. Whenever I pass by that Pizza Antica or go there for dinner, I'm half-expecting my cousin to pop up out of nowhere, yell my name, and pick me up into a big hug.

My uncle (his father) and James' mom got together with Sprouts Cooking Club and started the James Cole Sprouts Scholarship Fund. Sprouts is a cooking club whose purpose is to promote cooking and healthy eating to children of all cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds. They host hands-on cooking classes with professional chefs for children in the San Francisco Bay Area in the hopes the next generation knows how to eat and how to cook good ingredients. The scholarship fund started in memory of my cousin helps fund classes and events to foster the passion for cooking my cousin had in all children.

Being my cousin's birthday today, I thought I'd use my cooking blog to plug Sprouts and, in particular, the James Cole Sprouts Scholarship Fund. If you feel like donating, please feel free. Do not feel you are under any obligation whatsoever.

I miss you, James.

I Heart Broccoli: Broccoli Soup with Cheddar Croutons

Last weekend, my two very good friends from college took me out to give me my birthday present: mani-pedi's. We also threw in some eating, drinking, and shopping, too. While we were sauntering around and window shopping, we ended up at Anthropologie. I honestly cannot wear anything in that store, try as I might. I don't have the right complexion for the majority of the tones they play with and I definitely do not have the body, either (a wide body + flowy skirts, dresses, and tops = not that great). The thing that Anthropologie does have that I love to browse is their kitchenware section. Most of it is tchotchke items, but if I had the money to throw, I'd buy a handful of their beautiful mugs and linens. Anyway, while browsing, something caught my eye: a beautiful...brightly colored...cookbook. I love big splashy cookbooks with pages of photographed dishes and food. The book is Ripe: A Fresh Colorful Approach to Fruits and Vegetables. It's a gorgeous book, first separated by color, and then by ingredient. I'd never seen a cookbook organized by color, but I love it (even has a website)! It helps illustrate the approach the author, Cheryl Sternman Rule, is going for. What grabs your attention in the produce section or farmer's market? Color. Color is was signifies ripeness, it signifies nutritional value, it signifies deliciousness. I quickly grabbed the book and brought it home. I haven't treated this cookbook like the others I have on my shelf. I have treated this cookbook like an actual book. My husband found me in the chair in our office curled up with this book, reading it, and he chuckled. "Who reads a cookbook?" Well, I do, I suppose. Each ingredient is prefaced with a vignette from the author, talking about her relationship with the ingredient. Her writing style is humorous, sarcastic, and genuine. It's similar to how I talk and even a bit how I write. I know I'll find myself leafing through this book a hundred more times, and you'll see plenty of her recipes posted here, as I find something new and exciting to make. But, of course, the first ingredient I turned to was broccoli.

I think I've mentioned my love of this particular member of the cabbage family before. I love broccoli. I've always had. It's not like it's a newly found favorite, like brussel sprouts (shh, don't tell my mom...), I've always loved broccoli. When I was a kid, my favorite vegetable side was steamed broccoli, topped with a splash of red wine vinegar. I never understood my cousins' infatuation with cheese sauce. Why drown these little tender trees with heavy thick cheese? Don't get me wrong, I love cheese sauce, but broccoli has this great flavor - why cover it up? Plus, I loved the texture of the stalk and the "leaves" of the crowns. It's a little sweet, a little bitter, and a whole lot of delicious. In college, my dorm fridge was stocked with bags of prepared broccoli florets. I'd throw them in a bowl with a bit of water and pop in the microwave for a minute or so. Pull it out and snack on them while watching TV or chatting online. The second half of my senior year consisted of broccoli florets and microwave-baked potatoes (plus its various toppings: hello baked beans!). My husband would shake his head whenever he'd visit and open my fridge to find these two items in abundance (amid bottles of beer, of course). No one could ever say my diet was unhealthy. It certainly wasn't a varied diet by any extent, but at least I wasn't living off of Hot Pockets.

So, what did Ms. Rule have in store for my favorite vegetable? Why, soup, of course! I love a good soup, but unfortunately the majority of broccoli soups at restaurants tend to be heavy, thick, and full of "cheese", with absolutely no flavor of broccoli, unless you count the sour taste of overcooked cabbage as the flavor of broccoli (which no one should). This soup has but a little bit of cheese in it and no cream. It uses an immersion blender and a bit of Greek yogurt to thicken at the end, but otherwise it's all broccoli on the inside. The thing that really caught my attention for this soup, though, was the combination of spices used to flavor the soup: whole cumin seeds, fennel seeds, and ground coriander. This elevates the soup entirely and places it into more Indian fare than American. Oh, and did I mention it's topped with cheddar croutons?* I love croutons in my soup (one of the reasons I LOVE French Onion Soup) and these add a lovely sharpness against the spicy thick soup. As the author notes before the recipe "As with most soups, its flavor improves over time." The spices are super potent even after a day after the soup is cooked. Total powerhouse of flavor, it definitely stands on its own. Or, you know, paired with an open-faced grilled cheese with tomato, which is what we did with the leftovers.

* Haha, okay, funny story about the croutons. The recipe says to line a baking sheet with parchment when making the cheddar croutons. I pulled out my roll of parchment and grabbed what was left of the roll: a 18" x 1" strip. Well, that wasn't going to do me any good. So, I grabbed what I thought would've been a fine substitute: aluminum foil. Boy, was I wrong. The cheese immediately stuck fast to the foil and took the cubes of bread hostage. I did what I could with my spatula when trying to flip and turn the croutons during baking, but it was a big fat mess. In my final step, attempting to rescue the croutons from the metal clutches of the foil, my husband peeks over my shoulder and says "Wouldn't a silpat worked better?" I shot him the look of death over my shoulder and he high-tailed it out of the kitchen. How stupid of me? I have 2 silpats in my arsenal. Why didn't I think to use them?! As I went about picking little bits of foil off of the salvaged croutons, I yelled to my husband in our office: "And, yes, a slipat would've worked better."