Bones are funny things. A few years ago, my father broke his hip; he didn’t skid over an icy street or fall down the stairs. Instead, he stumbled slightly on his way to the kitchen, and that was enough. Our bodies can be strong and resilient so often, but there are times when we are physically fragile, even if otherwise healthy, and we remember how vulnerable and delicate our bones and joints really are. The other day, my boyfriend fell during a taekwondo class and landed with most of his body weight on his hand. What was thought to be a torn ligament turned out to be, in fact, two broken fingers, and he had to be fitted with a cast to keep them in place. He works at a hospital, which is the only convenient part of this story.
It’s been painful and uncomfortable, and we’ve also realised how many things we take for granted when going about our daily lives that we wouldn’t otherwise have given a second thought. Buttoning a coat, squeezing out toothpaste, eating a meal, tying shoelaces – all activities made much more difficult, and sometimes impossible, with only one hand. He’s been in to see a hand specialist (and it would be remiss here if I didn’t reference the excellence of the NHS; the competence and kindness of its patient, hard-working staff; and our great fortune in being able to access this excellent healthcare freely), but he won’t be able to have the cast off until at least next week.
To cheer him up over the weekend I made him chorizo and tomato scrambled eggs, a re-run of a recipe I threw together in the days between Christmas and New Year to use up the bits and pieces in our fridge before going away. David loved it and suggested I blog the recipe; I demurred because it seemed such an instinctive, easy, obvious way to prepare eggs if you have chorizo hanging about the house. However, I leafed through a copy of Dan Doherty’s comfort-food book ‘Toast Roast Hash Mash’ at a friend’s house and it’s just filled with these very simple, comforting recipes – and if he can justify selling a book with food as simple as this (think dishes like fried potatoes with black pudding), I’m sure I can justify posting this.
I splashed out on eggs from Burford Brown hens here and I do think the excellence of the eggs is important when they are the stars. The yolks are so deeply orange that they glow – it’s clear why Italians sometimes call yolks rosso d’uovo, the red of the egg (they also say giallo dell’uovo, the yellow of the egg, as in English). It is not just the paprika-hued chorizo oil which has given the plateful of eggs their sunset-orange colour. But the choice of egg is not merely cosmetic, it is also for their deeper, richer flavour, and it’s nothing to do with expense as such – the finest eggs I eat are those given to me by my grandfather from his backyard chickens.
I like to finish off these scrambled eggs with a flourish of finely-grated Parmesan cheese – it’s an optional step, but delicious. You could also use Cheddar or a hard goat’s cheese if you’d prefer that flavour profile.
Remember, when making this, that eggs cook quickly and go cold even faster. I don’t usually go in for fol-de-rol like warming plates but I would recommend it for this – and make sure you have everything else you need for breakfast (tea, toast, plates and cutlery) ready to go once the eggs hit the pan.
Chorizo and tomato scrambled eggs
This recipe served two, but I honestly don’t know if that’s an obscenely huge portion. We didn’t eat it with bread – it will likely go further if you do.
- 130g chorizo sausage (the dried, cured kind which is usually sold in loops, not the salami-like slices or fresh chorizo-style sausages)
- 6 eggs
- 150g cherry tomatoes
- Salt and pepper (optional)
- Parmesan, for grating at the end (optional)
- Cut the chorizo into thickish coins and cut each coin into quarters.
- Cut the cherry tomatoes into quarters.
- Crack the 6 eggs into a bowl or jug. If you wish, add some salt and pepper to them now. Remember, the chorizo will be salty already, and if you add Parmesan there will be a bit more saltiness, so be careful about how you season the eggs. I used pepper only but thought that the dish could have done with a touch of salt – but only the tiniest extra whisper of it.
- Take a medium saucepan – I like my good black cast-iron pan, which also fries chorizo perfectly – and heat for a few minutes over a medium heat. Once hot, add the chorizo.
- Cook the chorizo, stirring, until it has yielded its oil and is ever-so-slightly crisping up at the edges – about 5-6 minutes. If the edges are getting crispy too quickly, turn the heat down. If you cook the chorizo long enough it will yield up enough oil and you won’t have to add any other.
- If you haven’t already lowered the heat, turn it down to as low as possible – for truly delicate eggs you may even want to move it to a lower-heat burner. Pour in the eggs and, using a wooden spoon or, even better, a wooden spoon with a flat bottom, cut through the egg mixture regularly, pulling them from the outside in, to form curds.
- When the eggs are setting but are still quite wet – this is often the work of minutes – add in the quartered tomatoes and stir them through the eggs and chorizo evenly. Cook for a few minutes more, until the eggs are set but still soft and slightly runny.
- Decant immediately onto warm plates. If liked, grate over some Parmesan using a fine grater.