Smoke + Salt with Blaine

Basque Region Piperade Meets Its Maker… Get It?

Car Camping Edition

Sitting in the living room of our small rental and watching the spring snow fly here in Lander, I daydream of what this summer will bring. Dreaming of sending climbing projects, lush mountain meadows filled with wildflowers, sunshine, and camping. If you live in the Wind River Mountains, then you understand the pain. Well, this issue we are going to daydream together and dive down the rabbit hole of car camping food.

Now I have to be honest, I am NOT a breakfast eater. Never have. Never will. The thought of under-seasoned breakfast potatoes taking up half the plate just doesn’t do it for me. I’m the guy that goes to 9 a.m. brunch and orders a reuben (it’s an ideal breakfast honestly). But when I’m camping, heck, there is just something primal and perfect about a proper breakfast. A brisk morning with frost lying on your tent (or I guess on top of your sprinter van nowadays), the smell of pine and smoke lingering on your clothes, bloodshot eyes half glazed over from last night's whiskey and the swapping of war stories by the fire. It's the ideal time. So I thought, yep, let’s cave to my desire of ragging on breakfast and make an oldie but goodie.

I’m going to show you one of my favorites. Piperade (pronounced pip·er·odd) comes from the French/Spanish Basque region and, at its core, is a sauce with green peppers, onions, tomatoes, and Espelette (which is a red French pepper) for seasoning; it’s quite straightforward. If you've been to any hipster-y brunch spot in the last five years, I'm sure you've seen Shakshuka on at least one menu. This is a brilliant version of, essentially, the same dish derived from North Africa and the Middle East. Eggs in Purgatory is an Italian version. As you can see there are many names and interpretations of this dish. It’s funny how the majority of brilliant dishes in this world have regional takes on them. Cultures who are separated by vast miles of land, the deep, dark oceans, even religions come up with similar creations.

At the end of the day, food is constant. We all crave salt, fat, and acid. Call the dish what you want, but I call it good. Enough of my rambles…

Ingredients:

Spices:

Salt to taste
Pepper to taste
1 tsp Piment d’Espelette (you can substitute this with Aleppo pepper or spanish paprika)

Produce:

1 whole tomato (if it’s in season, try to score a monster slicer like a Brandywine or Mortgage Lifter, essentially, a large heirloom or beefsteak tomato that is ideal for slicing)
2 cloves of garlic
1/2 sweet spanish onion
1/2 lemon (zest and juice)
2 to 3 peppers (choose your own spiciness, but I use green bell peppers, piquillo peppers, and jalapenos)

Pantry:

1 tsp honey
1 can of whole San Marzano tomatoes
Cooking oil (we used beef tallow, but good olive oil or butter works, too)

Dairy:

Feta cheese

Protein:

4 duck eggs (or farm-fresh chicken eggs)

Serve with:

Crunchy bread (if you’re in Lander, grab a loaf from those awesome folks over at the Lander Bread Share)
Good ass coffee
Parsley (hand-torn chunks)

Directions:

1. First, fire up that classic Coleman two burner (I know you have one) and get that cast iron nice and hot. Drop in a dollop of cooking oil along with the sliced onion and peppers. Don’t burn your veggies - just get them sweating. Once you see the glisten, add a pinch of salt and the chopped garlic.

2. Just before you add the tomatoes, add in lemon zest and juice. The acid will help deglaze the pan if you did brown the veggies, so scrape the bottom as the lemon juice hits the pan. Let’s be honest, the browned stuff stuck to the bottom of your pan is where the jewels of flavor are building anyway.

3. Crack open the can of amazing tomatoes (yes, I said can! Most canned tomatoes are picked at the height of their season and are fresher than off-season whole tomatoes) and begin the fun. Because they are whole, and this is how I was taught to make tomato sauces, I’m a big promoter of hand crushing those puppies. By hand, break up the tomatoes, add them to the cast iron, and pour in the remaining sauce from the can. (Go rinse your hands, ya filthy animal, trust me.) Add in that fancy French spice (Piment d’ Espelette), plus the honey, and let this mixture stew and develop its profile. The longer it stews, the better those flavors will develop. If you’re in a hurry to get the day going, just let it stew for a few minutes.

4. Now that we have made a bang up Piperade and the shenanigans of last night’s haze begins to creep back into memory, it’s time to crack those eggs straight into the sauce. Basically, the egg will poach in the tomato sauce. If the sauce needs more liquid to poach the egg, simply add a splash of water. Once the eggs are in the sauce, throw a lid on top of cast iron and let those eggs cook to your preference. Personally, I like my eggs soft poached so the velvety yolk spills out and blends into a rich tomato-y liquid, but cook the eggs how you prefer. I mean, you’re the cook so everyone else can eat to your preference, right?

 5. Once you have the eggs cooked to your preference, pull the skillet off the flame, season with salt and pepper, and set that baby in the middle of everyone. Toss in some feta cheese, torn parsley, slice up some bread, pour yourself a cup of that jet fuel camp coffee, and dig in!

Shout out to my buddy, Tom Tyznik, for inspiring me to do a breakfast dish.