Last week I went to a Method home party. The idea is an old one: a whole bunch of folks show up at a pre-designated house (in this case, one Method has rented out for the month for such occasions and bathed in hipness) to learn something. I wasn’t against going; their products are environmentally friendly and smell really, really good, so when someone told me about their “detox Seattle” program, I thought, why not? I’d love to bring the more environmentally offensive side of my cleaning closet somewhere and exchange it for planet-happy stuff. Sure. And I figured anything – anything – that inspired me to clean perhaps a little more frequently would be a bonus. Ooh, and the learning came in the form of an organic cooking demo (read: free dinner and drinks). That was a good hook, too.
I walked in thinking I’d have to hold onto my checkbook, that this was some sort of Tupperware party, but there was nothing actually for sale – just a big, hungry trash can that ate all the full containers of poisonous cleaning products I already owned. No sales pitches, no cleaning tutorials. It was fun, in a way, meeting new people, etc. But what I hadn’t understood when I was packing my nasties was that the products we brought for them to dispose of (properly, of course) weren’t replaced by products with the same function. Herego, I walked away with some stellar lavender hand soap, a window product, floor mopping junk, and some yummy grapefruit-based counter cleaner. Detoxed, but not replenished. Monetarily, this was roughly the equivalent of what I brought in, but functionally, it was nowhere near a fair trade. With the exception of the counter cleaner, which I am now obsessively using to clean every surface because it smells so darn nice, I basically took home doubles of all the Method products I already use.
This turns out to be very clever on their part, but quite inconvenient for me. (Duh.) Take last night, for example. We returned from the wedding on Orcas Island (amazing!) to dog mess on the rug (but no Resolve to clean it with), loads and loads of laundry (but no laundry soap), and a counter littered with debris from a bunch of dying sunflowers leftover from Dave and Kelly’s party (but no counter wipes to whisk them away with instantaneously). Grrrr. So obviously I’m supposed to use those coupons Method conveniently included to run out and buy all the household goods that I now need. Environmentally, it would be a good move (and one I’ve been meaning to complete for years now anyway), and I do love their stuff, but how did I not see this coming? I’m mad at Method for pointing out how easily I succumbed to their marketing ploy. I’m the sucker.
Anyway. I’m over it, as you can tell.
The best part of the party was a cooking demo by local private chef Becky Selengut, who’s most well known for her website, Seasonal Cornucopia, which is an online guide to what’s in season in the Puget Sound area. I met Becky a few years ago, when I was deciding whether to continue personal cheffing once we moved to Seattle. She rocks.
When she mashed up Yukon Golds to serve under spice-rubbed duck and caramelized fennel, she folded in Greek yogurt, instead of the more traditional cream or sour cream, which gave them a great texture and a bit of a tangy kick.
She got me thinking about all the other places I add just a bit of sour cream or cream, and when I woke up this morning, gazing into post-travels refrigerator wasteland, I thought of the killer omelet I had last week at Crave, and the Greek yogurt sort of leapt out at me. Turns out that whisking it into eggs until only really small pieces remain gives you super fluffy eggs.
Smoked Salmon, Roasted Poblano, and Goat Cheese Omelet (PDF)
Recipe 288 of 365
In the world of food fashion, Greek yogurt is the new heavy cream, and like a good black dress, it’s surprisingly versatile. Whipped into eggs, it makes a fluffy, moist omelet with just a hint of tang and considerably less fat than cream. You can roast poblano peppers yourself as directed here, purchase them at a farmers’ market, or simply substitute roasted red peppers or canned green chilies. Or, just use the egg and yogurt base to make scrambled eggs.
TIME: 15 minutes
MAKES: 1 to 2 servings
3 large eggs
2 tablespoons Greek yogurt (I use 2%)
Salt and freshly ground pepper
Spray olive oil
1 ounce goat cheese (a quarter of a little log), crumbled
1 ounce hot-smoked salmon, broken into small pieces
1 roasted poblano pepper, chopped
Whisk the eggs, yogurt, and a little salt and pepper together in a small bowl until the eggs are frothy and only very small lumps of yogurt remain.
Heat a small (8”) nonstick pan over medium-high heat. When hot, spray with olive oil, then add the egg mixture, and let cook for a few seconds. Turn the heat to low. Using a rubber spatula, stir the eggs slowly a few times, so that new raw egg hits the bottom of the pan and cooked egg gets stirred to the top. When there’s almost no runny egg left, distribute the remaining runny parts evenly along the bottom of the pan. Sprinkle the cheese, salmon, and pepper pieces all over the egg, and let cook for a few minutes, until the egg is set on the top and the goat cheese begins to melt.
Fold the omelet over and serve hot.