Capellini with Chive Blossoms and Crème Fraîche

At this moment, I find myself in a curious situation: I’m drinking a white wine spritzer and writing about capellini with crème fraîche and caviar. It’s as if I’ve never had to eat/serve chocolate bark in a bathtub or carry a stuffed koala while undercooking cake. Two questions: who am I, and what have I become?

I fear that you can only go so long attempting fancy dish after fancy dish before you begin to occasionally crave stuff that is, well, fancy. We arrived at this precarious intersection when, the other day, Matt offered to go grocery shopping, and I added whitefish caviar to his list, right there next to toothpaste and almond milk.

One of my yoga teachers talks about the idea of expanding and stretching our bodies in class as a practice that ultimately leads to creating space for expansion in our everyday lives. Well, not to get toooooo yogic on you, but I’ve noticed something recently. When I don’t make it to class for five or six days in a row, my body starts to feel like it’s shrinking in on itself. My legs in particular feel like they are retracting and tightening into my hips. I don’t like it, not one bit. And I think my relationship with food is a little like this. Now that I know how delicious real linguine and clams can be, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back to using the canned Progresso stuff I grew up on. And now that I know how rich and round coffee tastes when you grind the beans yourself every morning, it’s a major bummer when you accidentally buy a bag of the pre-ground variety.

And now that I’ve tasted caviar for the first time, I look very forward to our second meeting. Though I’m sure it’s not for everyone. (If you don’t like foods that taste like the ocean floor, you probably won’t love it.) But, caviar or no, you should probably make this pasta in the near future. Once everything is prepped, the dish comes together in five minutes and looks so pretty. If you are going to leave out the caviar, I’d recommend substituting capers—the mellowness of the crème fraîche and butter begs for a briny, salty counterpart.

In my expansion, I think it’s fair to say that I haven’t completely lost myself. As you can see, I (or Matt, rather) couldn’t find the whitefish caviar the recipe called for, so we substituted with the dark-grey, American Paddlefish kind, which, unfortunately, is just as expensive. I also couldn’t find chive blossoms, so I chopped up a few petals of those edible flowers they sell alongside the herbs in grocery stores. I also didn’t press my hard-boiled egg through a sieve like Martha wanted me to. No, I mashed it with a fork. And in a sure sign of knowing who I am, I ate this meal while watching 1920s Atlantic City mobsters murder one another. (Boardwalk Empire is awesome.)

p.s. If you don’t like Bon Appétempt on Facebook and you don’t subscribe to Elle Girl Korea, you might not have seen that we were featured in last month’s issue. Check out the spread below! Our first print feature!

Capellini with Chive Blossoms and Crème Fraîche adapted from Martha Stewart Living

1 cup crème fraîche

1/4 cup minced chive blossoms, plus more for garnish (I'm thinking you might be able to find these at a farmer's market?)

1/4 cup minced fresh chives

1 to 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice

salt and pepper

1/2 pound capellini (angel hair) pasta

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 jar (4 ounces) whitefish (or black!) caviar

1 hard-cooked egg

Stir together the crème fraîche, chive blossoms (if you got 'em), chives, and lemon juice to taste. Season with salt. Set aside. In a separate bowl, mash up the egg with a fork.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil, and cook pasta until al dente. Drain, reserving 3/4 cup pasta water. Toss pasta with butter and crème fraîche mixture, adding enough pasta water to make a light sauce. Season with salt and pepper.

Divide pasta among dishes. (This makes two big portions or four small ones.) Top each dish with some of the mashed egg, a nice dollop of caviar, and any remaining chopped chives. Serve immediately!