Huevos Fagiole II

"I just don't feel like another breakfast sandwich," moans Raul. "I think we've been eating too much bacon."

"How can one eat too much bacon?" wonders Drew, oblivious as always to health concerns and totally obsessed with flavour.

"What about those Huevos Fagiole you made?" asks Raul. "That was a taste treat."

"I can make them," offers Drew as he looks up briefly from the computer.

"You have too much work to do," says Raul diplomatically. "How did you make them?"

"I just heated the fagiole, made little pockets in it while it bubbled and then popped the eggs in to pouch," says Drew. "Just be sure to put the lid on the pot so that the eggs heat from the top as well."

"A lid," ponders Raul under his breath. "I can improve on that."

Raul hits the fagiole until it is bubbling then ladles it into onion soup bowls. He makes a small indentation and then pops in the eggs. The bowls are then placed in the oven - heat from above! - and bakes them at 350 degrees until the eggs are poached to perfection and visual excellence.

"What a great idea," says Drew as he digs in.

"There is always room for little tweaks of improvement," notes Raul proudly.

Breakfast Sandwich - Burrito-style

"Why don't you make Heuvos Fagiole and I'll take the morning off?" suggests Raul.

"No problem," says Drew. "I'll make it spicier this time. I don't really feel like pasta but maybe I'll get corn chips and put them on a bed of them. Or torilla chips."

"We don't have processed chips in the house," notes Raul.

"Have you ever had chili in a corn chip bag?" asks Drew while Raul heads to the kitchen. "I had it several times at that Cowgirl restaurant in New York. It was delicious but probably not at all good for you or practical. I could go and get tortillas and . . ." Meanwhile Raul is working the mini-food processor.  He blends up some of the fagolie sauce to create a paste and then fries it into refried beans Portuguese-style. Three eggs are beaten together with parsley and green onions and then fried into a verdant thin omelette. An avocado is whirred into a paste. The three elements are spread onto a pita and rolled up tight into tasty burritos. "Maybe tortillas would be too crunchy," muses Drew.

"Breakfast is served," says Raul.

Huevos Fagiole

For the second day in a row it is out of bed and to work without thought of food beyond coffee as fuel. Drew finishes his review writing first and realizes he is starving while Raul is still buried in literally thousands of photos that must be sorted, sifted and processed. "It's way past time for breakfast," says Raul just after noon has rolled by. "What do you feel like having?"

"I'll make something," volunteers Drew. "How about Huevos Fagiole?

"What?" says Raul, skeptically raising an eyebrow.

"There is Fagiole sauce left in the fridge," Drew thinks out loud. "I'll put it over pasta and poach an egg on top."

"Not too spicy," says Raul absently. "And the avocados are a perfect ripeness."

Drew heats the sauce to a slow boil while the pasta cooks at a fast boil. And the avocados do slice nicely with a squirt of lime juice keeping them from turning brown. Because the eggs, pasta and avocado will all be bland Drew does sneak some fresh grated black pepper into the Fagiole sauce as it heats. When the pasta is almost done he creates two little indents in the boiling sauce and ladles in the eggs, puts on the lid and crosses his fingers. He strains the pasta and divides it between the serving plates before grating on a heaping helping of Parmagiano-Reggiano (and a little more black pepper). One egg, for no discernible reason beyond a desire to be aggravating, poaches at twice the speed of the other so it is plated and served. The second egg, though taking longer, is more visually appealing.

"Just what I needed," raves Raul. "I can't believe you boiled pasta."

"And poached eggs perfectly despite Julia Child saying it is difficult," says Drew between mouthfuls. "Get back to work."

Empanadas Fagiole

"Sometimes you just need a home-cooked meal," says Raul.

"Amen," says Drew who is just back from an exhausting rehearsal.

"And it practically cooks itself," explains Raul. "Just leave it on low for three and a half hours or until you finally get home." Drew confesses to a beer and a shot of Red Stag but his praise of Raul's astounding concoction smooths over any hunger pang-induced annoyance at the dinner delay.

Raul has made a fagiole sauce - a can of tomato paste, a can of Romano beans, a can of kidney beans, chopped onions, celery and red peppers, a handful of Greek oregano, and two slices of pre-fried pork belly ("basically everything in the fridge," he says disingenuously) - that he ladles over the leftover empanadas that are heated on the bbq because it is still too hot to turn on the oven. A layer of mozzarella cheese cushions the empanadas and it melts under the influence of the bubbling fagiole sauce.

Fresh chives from the balcony garden are sprinkled on a side of sour cream to add a spark of pizzaz to the proceedings. "It's just tacos," shrugs Raul.

"But amazing ones," raves Drew. "Sometimes a home-cooked meal is just the perfect thing after a long, sweaty rehearsal." 

"Or a long, sweaty afternoon in the kitchen," notes Raul.

Pasta Fagiole

Pasta fagiole is Raul's favourite comfort food. It has now become one of Drew's favourites. The tomatoes are simmered, as per Julia Child's admonishment, for at least an hour and a half to achieve the height of flavour. The romano beans grow soft and tasty thanks to the garlic, onions and a dash of chili peppers and cinnamon. This batch is made, again on Julia's advice, using pork belly instead of bacon. The result is sweeter, subtler and less salty than when using the smoked version. Raul is not sure at first, but decides he likes it even though it is tampering with family tradition.

"The beans really benefit from the pork fat," says Raul. "It really permeates. I read in a Portuguese recipe book that beans should always be made with pork belly or pork fat. They just complement each other. Beans absorb fat and cholesterol, even when you've eaten them, but in this case it's just for flavour."

The new $1 hard-cheese grater works just fine and when chopped parsley from the balcony garden is sprinkled on top the lunch is complete. And comforting.