Fried Egg Caprese Sandwich

I love breakfast sandwiches. More often than not, if a brunch menu is sans the bfast sammie, I'll order toast, a fried egg, and a side of bacon, and I'll make my own damn breakfast sandwich. 

Amanda taught me that trick. She's pretty smart like that. I mean… she just got her Master's degree over the weekend… talk about brains, that gal's got em! 

This breakfast sandwich is super fresh tasting…that's the basil. It's basically a caprese salad (um, yum!) but on a ciabatta roll. With a fried egg. It's got all the right fresh & tangy & creamy stuff goin' on. And it comes together really fast (no Master's degree required). 

PS. Doesn't that fried egg look like a steak? Why is it shaped like that? 

Fried Egg Caprese Sandwich

Serves 1

1 ciabatta roll, sliced open

Olive oil 

1 tablespoon mayonaise 

1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar

2-3 thick slices fresh mozzarella 

2-3 large basil leaves

1-2 thick tomato slices (I used a big, meaty heirloom)

1 egg

Salt and pepper

Brush the insides of the roll with a little bit of olive oil, and broil until lightly golden and crispy (or grill!). Whisk together the mayo & balsamic, and spread on half the ciabatta roll. Add tomato on top of mayo, sprinkle with salt and pepper. Add cheese then basil to other half of roll. Fry an egg to your liking (I prefer over-medium….the yolk is still runny, but the white is fully cooked everywhere), and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Put egg on tomato, and combine sandwich halves. That's it!

Tuna & White Bean Salad with Tomatoes & Kalamata Olives

It's that time of year when I just can't seem to find a second to catch my breath. Birthdays, happy hours, work events, and softball games. Sunny sun time, graduations, trips, visitors, outdoor runs. I love being busy and doing so many fun things with so many great people, but sometimes a girl just needs to sit at home and eat a salad. Know what I mean?

Last week I ate out, bar food and restaurant food, every single night. By Friday I was pretty much dying for some fresh vegetables, and something homemade. There's just something about putting simple, fresh ingredients together in your own kitchen, and sitting on your own couch, in front of new streaming episodes of your favorite guilty pleasure (um, Pretty Little Liars… don't judge) that just feels so right. 

This salad is awesome for those times when you desperately need to make something at home, but also have very little time to actually make something. A handful of cherry tomatoes and kalamata olives, peppery fresh arugula, salty capers, white beans, and good quality tuna. There's very little chopping involved. You don't even have to halve the toms and olives if you're really pressed for time. Some quick can opening and tossing, and you can be you again. It's that simple.

Tuna & White Bean Salad

1 can white beans, drained and rinsed

1 can good quality tuna (bonus points for smoked!), drained

1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved

1/2 cup kalamata olives, pitted and halved

1 tablespoon capers

2-3 big handfuls arugula

Juice from 1 lemon

Drizzle of extra virgin olive oil

Salt & pepper to taste

Combine beans, tuna, tomatoes, olives, and capers in a large bowl. Add lemon juice, just a drizzle of olive oil, s&p to taste. Toss together, gently breaking up the tuna. Toss in the arugula, or serve on a bed of arugula. 

Savory Summer Squash & Tomato Tart

My family is sentimental. We like to hang on to things. I think my dad's parents—my oma and opa—instilled that in him. They came from Europe with nothing. All their keepsakes and things from childhood, pictures, even the country they were from (Yugoslavia): gone. So, I'm sure he grew up with that hang-on-to-everything you have mentality. My mom's parents, on the other hand, were children of the great depression. I remember a story about my grandma Carol's house burning down when she was a girl in Oklahoma, taking all her toys, clothes, and belongings with it. I'm sure that has something to do with my Mel's predilection for keeping things. Then Mel and John left the rural Southern California town they were from to come to Washington, and because of kids and finances and life, they don't make it back there as often as they'd like. I think this makes them sentimental for the places, people, and memories from their past. 

They passed this on to me. Every time I go home, I pour over old pictures, old things from my childhood. I take Evan around the property that he's seen a million times, pointing out spots where I used to play, the tree that I used to think I'd get married under, the place where I killed the spider that Amanda never forgave me for. 

My parents still have a lot of my childhood toys. Barbies in one bin, treasure trolls in another. And books. My RL Stine collection lives on—Fear Street from my middle school days, Goosebumps from elementary school. I had a lot of RL Stine books. And the picture books from when Amanda and I were little. I love looking through the books. 

Whenever I'm thinking of what to make with summer squash, I get a fleeting glimpse of a book from childhood—Squash Pie. So, when I went home last weekend, I dug out the book Squash Pie… to go along with the bounty of zucchini Mel was sending back to Seattle with me. The book (which is from the 70s and was passed down from my cousin Barb…and has Barbie, Room 8, written inside) is about an old farmer who plants summer squash because he's so stoked for squash pie. But every time the squash is just about ready to pick, someone steals it. The book doesn't actually pin it on her, but the farmer's wife is obviously the culprit. The night-thief's shadow is wearing a dress just like hers, and she's always trying to convince him to eat other kinds of pies—apple, cherry, etc—but he only wants squash pie. My favorite part is when she throws a bunch of ripe peaches on the ground, bakes them into a pie, and yells "there's your squash pie!". A real fiery lady, that farmer's wife. Anyway, I think she eventually gets fed up with his squash pie obsession, and they finally have a squash pie…which she admits is way better than all the other pies. Even the last squash pie, which just tasted like a peach pie. 

I always wondered what the squash pie they had tasted like. What it looked like. I was a weird kid that way. So I brought the book back to Seattle with me, and looked up squash pie. Apparently there's a sweet pie made with summer squash—that must be what the farmer was after. I, however, was after something a little different, something savory. Mel's been trying to get me to make this rustic summer squash tart for like five years now (it's one of my dad's faves), but I was never really interested. She photocopies and sends me the recipe every summer, and every summer, it gets deleted. I guess I'm kind of like that farmer's wife, because I finally made the damn squash tart, and whadaya know, it was delicious. I changed it up quite a bit—added caramelized onions and pine nuts, used oregano instead of thyme (simply because I'm out of thyme), omitted the roasted pepper, sprinkled parm on top. 

Even Evan, who claims to hate zucchini and was appalled by the idea of squash pie, loved it. 

PS: I know you're all in fall-mode now: butternut squash and pumpkins and what not, but you surely have a basket of late-summer squash and tomatoes still hanging out, begging to be used before you switch over completely. And this tart, while using up the last of summer's produce, taste a bit like fall with the blue cheese and pie crust. Just make it, already.

Summer Squash & Tomato Tart

Adapted from this recipe

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon butter

1 medium yellow onion, sliced

2 cups-ish sliced (in rounds) mixed summer squash (zucchini, yellow squash, pattypan)

2 shallots, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon oregano

1 teaspoon(s) chopped garlic

1/4 cup toasted pine nuts

slat & pepper

Your favorite pie crust, chilled and rolled into 2 8-inch rounds

1 cup crumbled blue cheese

2 medium tomatos, sliced

1 large egg, beaten

Handful of parmesan cheese

Heat oven to 400°F. 

Add olive oil and butter to heavy-bottomed skillet, and heat over medium. Add onions and cooked until caramelized (here's a good how-to for caramelized onions). Add squash and shallots and cook, for a few minutes. Remove from heat and stir in oregano, garlic, salt, and pepper to taste.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, and lay out the 2 dough rounds (you may need to bake in two batches, or just make 1 big tart). Sprinkle the blue cheese evenly over the two rounds, within 2 inches of the edge. Top with onion and squash mixture, and then with sliced tomato. Fold edge of the crust over and brush crust with beaten egg.

Bake 35 to 40 minutes until crust is golden. Sprinkle with parmesan cheese. Let cool slightly before eating (so the juices have time to settle). 

Inner Stallion

I’m not Italian. I didn’t grow up eating fancy pastas, tortas, or tiramisus... our pasta was spaetzle or mac n' cheese, our tortas were huckleberry pies, and our tiramisus were German chocolate cakes with coconut pecan frosting. Italian just wasn’t our thing. I don’t even really like going to Italian restaurants that much… I mean, I can boil some pasta and throw some marinara on it myself. Evan’s part Italian, but he doesn’t really even like pasta.

I’m starting to realize, however, that there’s a lot more to Italian than spaghetti, chicken fettuccini, and fist-pumping members of the Jersey Shore cast. I’m starting to understand what good Italian cooking is all about. I like the idea of simple, fresh ingredients, with little fuss but a lot of flavor. The more I learn, the more I like it. Italian food, I mean… not the Jersey Shore.

It was this new found appreciation of the simplicity in Italian cuisine that helped me come up with a new risotto recipe…which is so good it almost had me pumping the ol’ fist a little bit. I made a margherita risotto with tomatoes, basil, and mozzarella. Apparently red, green, and white ingredients (representing the Italian flag) make something “Margherita.” It was fresh, flavorful, and what I like to think basic Italian food should taste like.

And then… because I can’t just leave well enough alone, I decided to go a little crazy with my new love of Italian—making a honey ricotta gelato with honeyed almonds. At this rate, I’ll be tanning, poufing my hair, and pumping my fist at the club before you know it.

Eat your heart out, Snooki.


Margherita Risotto

3 cups chicken broth
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup white onion- diced
fresh ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon oregano
2 garlic cloves- minced
1 cup Arborio rice
1 cup chopped tomatoes (fresh or good quality canned)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
1 cup grated mozzarella cheese
Shredded parmesan and chopped basil for topping


Warm chicken broth in a saucepan, keep on low heat. Heat oil and butter in a heavy saucepan over medium-high heat- add onions, black pepper to taste, and oregano and sauté until onions are softened. Add garlic and sauté until softened and fragrant (about 3 minutes). Add rice and cook, stirring for 2 minutes. Add tomatoes (and natural amount of juices, but not excess juice if you used canned) and basil- stir in.


Ladle in 1 cup simmering broth and cook, stirring, until absorbed. Continue simmering and adding broth, about 1/2 cup at a time, stirring frequently and letting each addition be absorbed before adding next. Continue until rice is tender and creamy, 16 to 18 minutes. (Add water or more broth to simmering saucepan if more liquid is needed). Stir in mozzarella, and serve topped with parmesan and additional basil!

Fruit of the (heir)Loom

I love tomatoes. This summer my love of tomatoes has turned into a near obsession (compared to last summer, when I had a weird acidic-mouth-burning-reaction every time I ate them, which severely limited my tomato intake). I can’t get enough of them. Sliced and sprinkled with salt and pepper. Dolluped with mayo. Drizzled with olive oil and topped with fresh basil. Sandwiched and dripping between two chewy slices of rustic bread. On a bagel with cottage cheese. In a salad with chunks of mozzarella and cubes of garlicky French bread. If it has tomato in it, I want it in my mouth.

Unfortunately, delicious tomatoes in Seattle are hard to come by. I grew up eating fresh, juicy, flavorful, sun-soaked, homegrown tomatoes straight out of the garden. Store bought tomatoes are, by comparison, like eating cardboard. Of course I could go to the farmers’ market, but this summer has proven far too busy for leisurely Sunday strolls through the market. Yeah, I could join a CSA, but I was unemployed for 2 months right at the beginning of the summer share, and couldn’t fork out the necessary dough for a bounty of fresh summer produce. I mean, sure, I could buy sweet, hearty heirloom tomatoes, but at $7.99 a pound (no joke)… in Mel’s words, that’s highway robbery. So, aside from the garden tomatoes Mel and John have given me the few times I’ve seen them this summer, I’ve been reduced to eating vegetable flavored cardboard.

But wait…vegetable flavored? Aren’t tomatoes fruit!? Yes! They are! Store bought tomatoes in Seattle, however, are so flavorless that fruit is ashamed to claim them, making the tomato one very confused vine-dweller. It isn’t until you bite into a juicy, sweet, homegrown or heirloom tomato that you realize why they call it a fruit. Recently, I was having good-tomato withdrawal, and decided to take advantage of a “sale” on heirlooms ($4.99/lb), and put the tomato-as-a-fruit conundrum to the test.

Using heirloom tomatoes and that other fruit-that’s-confused-as-a-vegetable, avocados, I made a delicious summery fruit salad—one where tomatoes can truly call themselves fruit, without the ridicule and torment of their adversaries.


With the tart-sweet bite of the stone fruits, the acidic tang of the grapefruit and orange, the deep sugary richness of the cherries, and the sweet but not-too-sweet flavor of the tomatoes and avocados, fruits and vegetables-come-fruits melded together to create a perfect union. I ate this salad immediately after tossing, a few hours later, and the next day, and it was fantastic every time.



Tomato and Avocado Fruit Salad
(Serves 2 as a full meal, 4-6 as a side)

2 large nectarines
1 large pink grapefruit (remove peel and seeds)
2 large heirloom tomatoes, any variety
1 large avocado
1 ½ cup of pitted, halved cherries (use a dark, sweet variety, like bing)
1 large navel orange (remove peel and seeds)
1-2 plums

Cut fruit into large chunks, and toss together with their juices. Enjoy salad on its own, topped with yogurt (honey flavored Greek, if you can find it), or, as I did the next day, on a whole wheat bagel with a schmear of cream cheese and a drizzle honey.

Watch out apples… tomatoes might just be the new ‘it’ fruit!