eggs benedict from scratch: buttermilk english muffins, blender hollandaise & link41 bacon

 

First, a clarification. When I say from scratch, I do not mean Michael Ruhlman's definition of "from scratch". I did not cure my own Canadian bacon; I didn't even use Canadian bacon. And I certainly didn't raise my own chickens or pig. I used chewy American bacon, cured just down the road on Main St. by Link 41. So, while not home cured, it's hometown cured at least. But I did make homemade buttermilk English muffins and hollandaise from scratch. Now that my conscience is clear, I think I'll wax historo-poetic about eggs.

The origins of eggs Benedict are disputed, both how they came into the world and how they came into my life. As to how they came into my life, I can't quite remember. I do know that I spent up until my twenties insisting on my eggs over-well. It's pitiful but true. But, once suspicious of egg yolks, I now love them as much as summer tomatoes, and they are an object of obsession and affection. I have almost three dozen eggs in my refrigerator at this very moment. Those fragile ellipses have seemingly endless incarnations, possessed of mage like powers to shape-shift. Yet, they are humble and ubiquitous, taken for granted. 

Whether I'm cracking a speckled quail egg, a marmoreal duck egg, or a fresh chicken egg with dirt still clinging to its shell there is always something mythic about the egg; they wear their metaphor on their sleeve. Eggs Benedict is the sort of treatment I think an egg deserves every once in a while. Soft boiled with a pinch of sea salt, they are a complete experience in and of themselves, but once in a while it's nice to dress them up and give them a twirl. 

There are a few claims as to the origin of eggs Benedict, but my favorite story (and the one I choose to believe) is that a hungover Wall Street stock broker of the name Lemuel Benedict walked into the Waldorf hotel with a hangover and ordered, or rather I like to think that it was his hangover that ordered, "buttered toast, poached eggs, crisp bacon, and a hooker of hollandaise." It sounds like the sort of thing the body would demand, something intuitive. And I like to think that was the inception of what has come to be known as eggs Benedict, the toast replaced with a porous english muffin so that the creamy yolk mingles with lemony hollandaise in its nooks & crannies. 

I grew up on English muffins with butter. I can remember watching "David the Gnome" in our breakfast nook, eating an English muffin. I'd never made them before, hadn't really thought to make them. Whenever there is a special occasion, Mother's Day or her birthday, my mother requests eggs Benedict. Usually if I'm making it, I'm making it for her. Nine times out of ten at least. She fell for eggs Benedict at the New Orleans brunch institution Brennan's, and subsequently fell in love with me coming over and making it. Having lived in New Orleans for four years during collegs and having missed it terribly ever since, I can empathize with the craving. I knew this last time she asked that I had to make English muffins from scratch, as I'm no longer the sort that can abide buying such things at the super market. And I like to know how to make all the things. So I turned to Michael Ruhlman, as I so often do, and of course he has an entire post devoted to eggs Benedict from scratch. Using that as my reference, I embarked on making English muffins. 

About two years ago I made eggs Benedict (for my mother) using Ruhlman's traditional hollandaise recipe based on Escoffier's recipe flavored with a sec (a vinegar reduction) and followed his two hollandaise tips: pay attention and don't let it know you're afraid of it (apparently hollandaise can smell fear). It was a beautiful success, satisfying in it's traditional method and nuanced. Since I was taking on English muffins for the first time I opted to make the less labor intensive blender hollandaise, which is fantastically easy, stable, and most importantly, perfectly delicious. Mine came out quite thick and I kept it warm in a coffee thermos set in a warm place (between the burners on my stove) and thinned it with a little warm water as needed when time to serve. Ideally, I like to make a traditional hollandaise, but this version is so incredibly quick and painless that, with a few frozen homemade English muffins popped in the oven, you can make eggs Benedict virtually any time without any stress at all. If you love it as much as I do, this is fantastic news. Made with local eggs & butter, I was licking it off of my fingers. 

Ruhlman also has a recipe for sourdough English muffins. The sour character sounded lovely to me, but I didn't have time (nor do I have much experience) for a sourdough starter. So I opted to make a buttermilk version. 

And I want to note, if the blender hollandaise sounds like cheating to you: Ruhlman approves (I need Ruhlman's approval, like a father's... a father that doesn't know you exist) calling it "fast and fabulous", and he too acknowledges the hangover curing properties of eggs Benedict "when the head is a bit thick and the stomach a bit delicate from the previous night’s revelry". So whether it's Mother's day or you're hungover or just hungry, it is hardly an over-statment to say that this is a perfect breakfast. And it always feels special. No matter where you are or how easy it is.

Blender Hollandaise

from Marlene of CooksKorner via Michael Ruhlman

• 3 (preferably local) egg yolks at room temperature
• 3/4 cups of butter, unsalted
• 1 – 1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon dijon mustard
• pinch of cayenne

1. Melt butter in a small saucepan.
2. Place the eggs, lemon juice, cayenne and mustard in a blender. Blend for a minute until nicely combined.
3. Pour the butter through the hole in the top of the lid of the blender, SLOWLY, with the blender at high speed. This should take about 10-15 seconds to blend and thicken. You will hear the change as it thickens. Trust me, you’ll know.

Makes about a cup

Homemade Buttermilk English Muffins

adapted from Michael Ruhlman

• 2 ounces/60 grams butter (I used raw local butter that I get over at the Brainerd Market)
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 16 ounces buttermilk (450 grams) (I used Cruze Farms buttermilk)
• 1 package active dry yeast (1-1/2 teaspoons, .25 ounces or 7 grams)
• 1 large egg, beaten (from the Main St. Market on Wednesday)
• 16 ounces all-purpose flour/450 grams (or four fluffed cups)
• 1-1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (.25 ounces or 7 grams)
• 2 teaspoons baking powder dissolved in 1 tablespoon of water
• cornmeal for dusting

1. Combine the butter and sugar in a small sauce pan, stirring to dissolve the sugar.  Add the milk, stir it and remove it from the heat.  Stir in the yeast and the egg.
2. Combine the flour and salt in mixing bowl.  Add the milk mixture and stir till it’s all well combined.  Cover and set aside for 1-1/2 hours, or refrigerate overnight (removing it from the fridge an hour before cooking).
3. Heat a griddle or a skillet over medium heat.  If you’re using rings, butter them.  Stir the dissolved baking powder into the batter.  Dust the griddle or skillet with corn meal.  Scoop-pour about 1/4-cup portions onto the griddle, free form or in rings.  Cook for about seven minutes.  Flip them and continue cooking till done, 7 to 10 more minutes. If not cooked through but fully browned on the outside, you can transfer them to 
4. Move them to a rack to cool at least 10 minutes. They can be eaten immediately after, toasted, or frozen in a ziplock bag once fully cool. Make sure to split your muffins with a fork or your fingers, not a knife, to get the proper craggy surface area. 

Yield: 8 to 12 muffins

Note: I did not use English muffin ring molds and was very happy with their rustic appearance, as I prefer a homemade look. Flipping them is also easier without rings. It took me a few tries to figure out how to make sure they were cooked through. I found finishing them in a 350 degree oven to be the best way to make sure they were not doughy in the center without overcooking them. And I also found this post at Smells Like Home to be very helpful, and I intend to try the recipe she used (Peter Reinhart's from The Bread Baker's Apprentice...basically a bread bible) next. I also want to try Tartine's version. 

Poaching Eggs

Here are Michael Ruhlman's instructions on how to poach an egg. As for me I use only the freshest local eggs with their vibrant orange yolks. Grocery store eggs don't even taste like eggs to me anymore. Otherwise they are next to impossible to poach. I bring a sauce pan of water to a low boil/simmer and add a few teaspoons of distilled white vinegar. I crack my eggs in a small prep bowl, whisk the water to create a whirlpool in the middle, and gently tilt the eggs into the center of the whirlpool. I cook them for about 3 minutes, until the white is just set and the yolk is still runny. I transfer them with a slotted spoon into a bowl of ice water to stop their cooking. Once all of the eggs are poached I put them back into the water for about 30 seconds to one minute to just bring them back up to warm. 

To Serve Eggs Benedict

Fry bacon to your liking. I like to fry mine low and slow. It takes a while, but I love the chewy result, especially with thick cut bacon. I fry it on med-low for ten minutes on each side and then a few minutes per side until done. Transfer to paper towels to drain, making sure to blot the grease. 

Toast an English muffin beneath the broiler until golden brown and top with the bacon, a poached egg, and a generous helping of hollandaise. Sprinkle with chopped chives and serve with a light green salad. 

Vegetarian Option, Eggs Florentine

Simply substitute a handful of fresh baby spinach for the bacon!