The Bliss That Is Tian

We're nearing the end of the growing season in New England. I went to our CSA yesterday and picked up what was purported to be "the last" of the cherry tomatoes. I also got some of the first of this season's potatoes, a late-summer luxury, creamy and delicious.

And I picked up a dozen eggs. Because real eggs from an honest farm are one of life's more exquisite pleasures--although not at first. These were pretty filthy with what's politely called "chicken dirt." Bruce washed them and put them in a large bowl of water with a teaspoon of bleach to get rid of some of the more persnickety problems. But the task is so worth it--if only because he then used those eggs in a potato and greens tian.

A tian? Not exactly an everyday dish, eh? We were rather ignorant of the Provençal wonder until we went to friends' house for dinner earlier this summer. They served it--and we were undone. Isn't it wonderful to learn new things, even when you've been thinking about food for so many years?

Well, we've never looked back. Tian has become a go-to standard.

A tian is actually the name for the round dish that this eggy wonder is baked in. Sort of like "tagine"--it's the pot and the meal cooked in it. But Bruce uses a large skillet--everything works out fine. He mixes eggs with herbs, potatoes, and greens to create this wonderful treat. Oh, and anchovies. Lots of anchovies. But more on that after the jump.

First, cook 8 to 10 medium, yellow-fleshed potatoes until they'tender but still firm. Steaming preserves the best texture--not as mushy as when the potatoes are boiled. Cool the spuds a few minutes, then peel and chop them into bite-sized bits.

Next, the anchovies. Brace yourself. You'll need lots. Bruce uses three of these wonderful Italian anchovies packed in salt from Nettuno. You can find them on the web or at most Italian markets. Bruce's mother and I sat and ate one of these salty bombs with some red wine the other night. Incredible! And another thing our friends introduced us to that night with the tian! Wow. Isn't exploring the edges of what you know about food fun? Just look how fat and luscious these anchovies are:

But let me warn you: they're so big that they have to be gutted. No lie. Bruce slices them open, guts them, and bones them. As here:

If you can't find fat anchovies like these, you can use 5 to 6 of the more standard tinned anchovies. In any event, mince what you've got into fine pieces.

Fry those minced anchovies and 3 minced garlic cloves in about 2 tablespoons (30 ml) olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Let the pan heat up, then swirl in the oil. Add the anchovies and garlic, then drop the heat a bit and let them go about 3 minutes. The garlic shouldn't burn but the anchovies should definitely begin to melt.

Now add 1 pound (450 grams) washed, stemmed, and chopped kale or Swiss chard. Toss with long tongs or two wooden spoons until wilted and tender--about 2 minutes for the chard or up to 10 minutes for the kale.

Then keep going. You want the liquid in the pan to evaporate--so much so that when you press the greens against its side with a wooden spoon, you still have a dry pan. You'll need to stir and monitor the pan at this point to make sure nothing singes while you're burning off that liquid.

In the meantime, position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 375F (190C).

Transfer the dry greens with any garlic bits adhering to them to a large bowl. What's happened to the anchovies? They've melted into the greens. Add up to 1/3 cup (50 grams) sliced almonds, 2 tablespoons minced chives, and 1 1/2 tablespoons minced oregano leaves.

And don't skimp on those herbs. Use fresh. If this is going to be a celebration of the abundance that is the end of summer, make it so. You want more flavor in every bite. That's the only way to demand satisfaction from your food. And as we've said in our book REAL FOOD HAS CURVES, that's one of the main answers to the obesity epidemic that plagues the developed world. Don't run from the pleasure of food. Embrace it. And demand more with every bite, not less.

Now add the chopped potatoes to the bowl, along with 1/2 cup (2 ounces or 55 grams) finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano and some freshly ground black pepper.

Beat 8 large eggs in a separate bowl until creamy and light. Seriously. Get out the whisk and give your forearm a workout. There must be no wisps of egg white in the mix. We're talking a 4- to 5-minute task. Light. Creamy. I promise: it'll be worth it.

Pour these beaten eggs into the bowl with the potatoes and everything else, then stir it up and pour it all into a 30-cm (11- to 12-inch) nonstick skillet, tian pan, or round, deep, nonstick baking dish.

Bake until the eggs have set and the tian has browned slightly, about 45 minutes.

And you're done. Pure bliss. Cool it a few minutes before slicing into wedges. The potatoes will be creamy; the greens, a little spiky. And all those anchovies? A mere memory, now a sophisticated backtaste of savory, salty wonder. We love it with our spicy sauerkraut made from shredded cabbage and jalapeños. We also sometimes drizzle bottled hot sauce on top of the slices. But you can also have it on its own with no more than a green salad. And it saves perfectly for lunch the next day. Isn't it wonderful to learn new things about real food?

Comments

[Terry Cohoe]

Looks fabulous. Definitely adding this to the list of things I must make.

[Alan Cooke]

Sounds and looks delicious! Was not familiar with this dish, but it looks 'right up my ally'. Thanks for sharing!

[pix]

wash the eggs in bleach? thought a quick rinse off under the tap and quick swirl in vinegared water should suffice?

[Mark Scarbrough]

Pix: We're doing it like the farmer told us to.

Rhonda: We're fine. Out of power for four days, but all in all, not as bad as many. It's so sad what has happened to New Jersey and to Vermont and to upstate New York.

M.