Smoked Salmon Scramble for Easter

Spending a lot of time moving around also means spending a lot of time being homesick. My Baudelaire quote–the one I was obsessed with for years–says “I think I could always be better where I’m not.” I still believe it’s true, but it’s more than that now: I don’t get homesick for home; I get homesick for what was, for childhood memories that don’t exist anymore.

Today is Easter. Growing up, Easter was made up of a quasi-random assortment of cousins, aunts and uncles, Easter egg hunts in my grandmother’s backyard, morning mass and brunch in her dining room, in my father’s childhood home. My grandmother passed away several years ago; my cousins and I sadly haven’t seen much of one another over the past few years. I don’t know what Easter was like at home this year, but I’ll bet that even though my sisters and my parents probably had a lovely time, it was nothing like the Easters we had growing up.

One of the things I remember most clearly about Easter was the food; I guess I had the heart of a food blogger early on. Still, there’s something about remembering the fondant icing on the tiny petit-fours my mother ordered, the way that bagels seemed endless on a platter on the table, the scrambled eggs that I loved dry (I’d later evolve to understand that eggs are better barely cooked at all) that is still so clear in my memory, even when other bits are fuzzy. It’s those mornings of coming home from church to that spread, eating on our knees as conversations unraveled in every direction around me, that I missed today.

But those mornings don’t exist anymore, and I don’t know that a new tradition in the place haunted with memories would help. Instead, I concentrate on new traditions: lunch on the patio at the Country Boy’s parents’ house with his family around–people who in the short time I’ve known them have made me feel like family too. And when there’s so much French buzzing in my ears that I can hardly understand it anymore, the Country Boy and I go for a walk.

It’s just the two of us–plus the dog–which means that we can revert to our own language, the one we’re used to speaking when we’re alone. It’s halfway between French and English, the easiest expressions to understand from both, the ones we use most often. I snap pictures of the blossoming foliage around us, and he laughs at the fact that I’m never without my camera.

We spent the afternoon at his cousin’s house, the one he was raised with, the one who’s his best friend. They talk every day, and I can’t help but be jealous of their closeness. But she’s just as nice to me, and we sat at her mother’s dining room table, surrounded by family pictures and friends, and someone slid a box of mini pastries–eclairs the size of my thumb, a millefeuille as big as half a deck of cards–and I couldn’t help but remember.

It’s not Easter from my childhood… not by a long shot. Then again, holidays never seem to be exactly what they were when you were a child. At the end of the day, nothing really ever stays the same, and if it has to change, this isn’t a bad way to go.

Still, I’d have liked to make one dish that always reminds me of brunch and Easter: my father and my favorite breakfast in the world. Scrambled eggs, melted caramelized onions and rich smoked salmon come together for this scramble. Our favorite breakfast place in New York has some secret I’ve yet to discover, but for now, my version suits me just fine. A bagel half with cream cheese is the perfect foil; a plateful of eggs the perfect, lazy morning breakfast, whether it’s Easter or not.

Scrambled Eggs with Smoked Salmon

1 tbsp. butter
1 small onion, thinly sliced
1/2 tsp. salt
6 eggs
2 tbsp. crème fraiche
4 oz. smoked salmon

Heat the butter over low heat and add the onion and salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is caramelized and soft, about 15-20 minutes. (This can be done ahead of time).

In a bowl, whisk the eggs and crème fraiche together. Add to the skillet with the onions. Allow to cook without stirring for 1 minute, then, using a spatula, gently scrape the eggs from the bottom and fold to create large curds. Continue cooking like this until the eggs are slightly firm but still very wet.

Cut the salmon into small pieces and add to the skillet. Remove immediately from the heat and slowly stir the salmon into the scramble until just heated through. Serve immediately with a toasted bagel half and cream cheese.