{Don’t they know it’s rude to stare?}

They’re hee-ere….not the extraterrestrials, the fava beans.  They are just vegetables after all so don’t worry about them tying you up and holding you hostage or overthrowing the government or anything like that.  Just don’t look them straight in the eyes or they might hypno-bamboozle you flat in your tracks. If they do manage to outsmart you while your cooking, then you had it coming, dummy.  The weirdest part I admit is the googly eyes, I don’t remember that from last year — maybe they’re evolving, rapidly. Scary!

{Just look at them trying to intimidate me on my own porch!  Cigarette butts everywhere — such the riff raff.}

When I lived on the east coast we got Gypsy Moths this time of year. Out here in California we get fava beans (pretty sweet I know).  This recipe would be all wrong with caterpillars though, so for all you New Englanders, nice try but no substitutions.

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{Long noodles cooked in aromatic broth with young spring vegetables, basil, and crispy tofu.}

I know a long life noodle from a curse you to an early death noodle any day of the week — and these my friends are like if that pool from the movie Cocoon made noodles too.  Magic.  I also believe in the mighty power of suggestion and all jokes aside, whenever I see these on a menu, it’s one order for me please thank you.  Spring is my favorite time of year for food, everything grows in such abundance that certain vegetables are often harvested when they are young and at their most tender.

Earlier in the week I made some delicious chicken broth using ginger and chilies so when I saw all the sweet organic veggies at the market my mind began to wander, and then all I needed was noodles.  There’s a tiny market nearby that make homemade vermicelli that they don’t cut; it’s simply folded over and then packaged.  Each strand is about three feet long and is so delicately thin that cooking them within a broth is perfect.

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{Pillowy, soft poached eggs rest their weary yolks upon toasted buttery breads.}

This is my favorite breakfast, pure and simple.  I’ve tried for years to perfect the soft boiled egg and just cannot get the yolk perfect and ensure the top shell is removed sans those most undesirable shards.  And that the yolk is runny on the inside and jelly around the edges that is easily achieved by poaching.
There’s something comforting about this meal’s raw elegance in that, if for some reason I should wake up in the forest alone and hungry, I’m secure in the fact I could scavenge old bread and an egg from the dwellers there to poach and toast by a sunlit stream.  I’d serve it on dewy leafs to the field mice, burrow owls, and any forest friends awake and hungry.  Here’s what you need for kitchen preparation (ad-hoc wilderness improvisations are up to you of courshe.)

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