This carrot soup–a cousin of other creamy cold-weather soups like celery root, sunchoke, or cauliflower–is a riff on a simple Chez Panisse carrot soup recipe that we heard Samin Nosrat talking about on the Bite podcast. It doesn’t use any cream or milk, but it does begin with some yellow onions sweated in butter, and once everything is pureed together it has the same satisfying richness as a creamy root vegetable soup with the benefit of a much lighter finish and brighter flavor. We’re getting some additional brightness from our leftover pickling brine from preserving summer peppers, a great way to stretch that amazing flavor as far as it can go.
To give the soup some additional interest and pop, we made sweet/salty/spicy/herbal topping of dried chile flakes, candied ginger, and celery leaf. The chile flakes came from bumper crop of hot peppers we grew at Goatfell this summer. We fermented them with some garlic for about a month, then pureed that into a hot & funky pepper paste, then dehydrated that paste into brittle sheets. We crumble those sheets into a salty chile-flake seasoning that has a long, measured heat and serious depth of flavor from its initial fermentation. The ginger we candied came from a farm in the Hudson Valley, where ginger has recently become an increasingly popular crop–exciting for us, because it’s a delicious flavor to be able to add to our repertoire, and a great way to add a vibrant note to a dish.
2017 was an exciting one at Egg—we opened an outpost in Tokyo (!) and got Goatfell, our little farm in the Catskills, back in action for the best season of growing we’ve ever had. We rallied together with you to raise thousands of dollars for hurricane victims in Houston, Miami, and Puerto Rico. We launched breakfast and lunch delivery with Caviar. We hosted our best-yet season of Tables of Contents readings—featuring Tea Obreht, Alexander Chee, Victor Lavalle, Sarah Gerard, and many other exciting, inspiring writers. We continued to work with a collection of partners and farms that remind us why working with food is so exciting, important, and enjoyable.
Tomorrow we’ll kick off the new year as we always do—helping to steady your ship for clear sailing with a hearty meal of Hoppin’ John and Greens, a traditional southern New Year’s dish that practically guarantees you’ll have better luck and more money in 2018. You’ll certainly be starting it off on the best possible tack.
We’ll open at 8 on New Year’s Day. Hope to see you then, and many more times besides. Thanks for sticking with us through another year of great breakfasts (and lunches) in Brooklyn!
Winter’s a quiet time at Goatfell, our little farm in the Catskills–especially when the whole place is tucked under a quilt of fresh snow. But even though our farmer Chuck would be happy to hibernate until spring returned, he’s still got projects going in the barn, like trays of seeds trying to make the most of sunny days.
This summer was our best season at the farm in many years, and we’re excited—even as we look out on acres of cold snow—to plan for an even better and more fruitful summer in 2018. Hope you’re able to say the same!
If you’ve tried coming by the restaurant on a Tuesday afternoon lately, you may have been unpleasantly surprised to find us closed for something we’ve been calling “Family Meal.” We’re spending a little time every week gathering together as a team to study and talk about the food system and Egg’s place in it. We’re clarifying our sense of mission and deepening our understanding of what food can do in a culture. Our first month of Family Meals has focused on the ideas that animated Egg from the beginning—the writings and lives of people like Edna Lewis, Wendell Berry, and Eliot Coleman, Alice Waters, and Michael Pollan. We watched the food-movement classic Food, Inc one week and talked about the importance of transparency and seed sovereignty; another week we spent discussing Wendell Berry’s classic essay “The Pleasures of Eating.”
When you’ve spent a long time in the middle of a movement, as we have, it can be easy to forget the electric charge that comes from first encountering the ideas of someone like Wendell Berry or the writing of Edna Lewis. It’s been exciting to see the greener members of our team light up when we have these conversations, to hear their ideas about how we should adapt our work to fit a changed world.
We’re hopeful that the time we spend having these conversations will make the time we spend cooking and serving food more meaningful–not only for us, but for you as well.