Caramelized Mushroom and Onion Frittata

Spring. Five years since the blog began. 233 weeks. I am not the same woman. I am not the same cook. I am not standing in the same kitchen, even though the walls and the stove and the skillet are the same, because the kitchen is defined not by its architecture but by who stands in it, and the woman standing in it now is different from the woman who stood here in March 2016. That woman was married, pre-cancer, and cooking from obligation. This woman is partnered, post-cancer, post-divorce, post-reconstruction, and cooking from love. From joy. From the deep, cellular knowledge that standing at a stove with a wooden spoon is the most important thing she does, not because the food matters (though it does) but because the act of feeding is the act of living, and she is living so fiercely and so fully that the kitchen can barely contain it.

The garden is planted. Bigger than ever — Tom added a raised bed, bringing the total to seven. He planted potatoes (his contribution; I've never grown potatoes but Tom insists they're "the easiest thing on earth," which is what all gardeners say about their specialty). I planted everything else: tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, squash, beans, herbs, strawberries, lettuce, spinach. The garden is a small farm now, and I stand in it on spring mornings with dirt on my hands and the sun on my face and think about Dad and the ranch and the dirt that raised me, and this dirt, my dirt, the dirt that is raising the next generation of food that will feed the family that lives in the house behind me.

I made a spring dinner from the first harvest: fresh pea risotto, the same recipe from two years ago, the dish that tastes like beginnings. Arborio rice, fresh peas, Parmesan, lemon. Tom and I cooked it together — he stirred while I added broth — and the risotto was creamy and green and perfect, and Mason ate two bowls and Lily ate the peas and left the rice, which is progress for a child who used to eat only cheese.

Five years of cooking. Five years of feeding. Five years of standing in this kitchen and making things from nothing — from flour and water and yeast and the stubborn Dawson belief that if you show up and do the work, the bread will rise. It rises. It always rises. And so do I.

The risotto had already been made and eaten and savored, and I was still feeling the warmth of that spring dinner — Tom at the stove, Mason asking for seconds, Lily sorting peas from rice with the focused intensity only a child can muster — when I started thinking about what else this season asks us to make. The frittata came to me the way the best recipes do: from the skillet that has been there through all five years, from the eggs and the caramelized onions and the patient kind of cooking that does not rush. If the risotto tastes like beginnings, this frittata tastes like staying — like knowing you have arrived somewhere worth being, and deciding to cook something beautiful anyway.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

8 large eggs
1/4 cup whole milk
1/2 tsp kosher salt, divided
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 tbsp olive oil
1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
8 oz cremini mushrooms, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves (or 1/4 tsp dried)
1/2 cup shredded Gruyère or Parmesan cheese
2 tbsp fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 375°F. Set a 10-inch oven-safe skillet over medium-low heat.
Caramelize the onions. Melt the butter with the olive oil in the skillet. Add the sliced onion and a pinch of salt. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 18–22 minutes until the onions are deeply golden and sweet. Do not rush this step — the patience is part of the recipe.
Cook the mushrooms. Increase heat to medium-high. Add the mushrooms to the skillet and cook undisturbed for 3 minutes, then stir and cook another 3 minutes until browned and tender. Add the garlic and thyme and cook for 1 minute more. Season with remaining salt and pepper.
Whisk the eggs. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs and milk until smooth and uniform in color, about 30 seconds.
Combine and top. Reduce heat to medium-low. Pour the egg mixture evenly over the mushroom and onion mixture in the skillet. Scatter the shredded cheese across the top. Cook on the stovetop for 2–3 minutes until the edges just begin to set.
Finish in the oven. Transfer the skillet to the preheated oven and bake for 10–12 minutes, until the center is just set and no longer jiggles when you give the pan a gentle shake. The top should be lightly golden.
Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and allow the frittata to rest in the skillet for 5 minutes. Garnish with fresh parsley, slice into wedges, and serve warm directly from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Caramelized Mushroom and Onion Frittata — From the Garden, From the Skillet, From the Heart