Spring is real this time. Fifty-five degrees, sunny, buds on every tree. The kind of week where Milwaukee exhales after holding its breath for five months. People are outside — walking, biking, sitting on porches with coffee. The bars on KK have their patios open. Lake Michigan has shifted from gray to blue-gray, which is practically tropical by our standards.
I wrote the first draft of my May column. It's about bigos — the three-day version, the one Mrs. Wojcik taught me. But it's not really about bigos. It's about time. About how the best food, like the best things in life, can't be rushed. About how Babcia made bigos for three days and how those three days were an act of love, not just cooking. About how a twenty-two-year-old guy from Bay View learned that patience is an ingredient.
I read it to Mrs. Wojcik over the phone. She was silent for a long time. Then she said, "Jakub, you write like your grandmother cooked." I asked what that meant. She said, "With your whole heart, even when no one is watching." I'm going to have that tattooed on my body. Not literally. Maybe literally.
At the brewery, Bay View Bloom — the lavender cream ale — goes on the board next week. Marcus is cautiously optimistic, which for Marcus means he's wildly enthusiastic. The lavender remains the talking point — some people will love it, some will hate it, and the conversation is the whole point. Beer shouldn't be boring.
I went to the farmers' market on Saturday — the one in the Third Ward, which opens in spring and runs through November. First market of the season. I bought asparagus, ramps (wild leeks — they grow in Wisconsin forests and taste like garlic and spring had a baby), radishes, and fresh eggs. Made a ramp and asparagus frittata for brunch — eggs from the market, ramps sliced thin and sautéed until soft, asparagus cut into coins, all poured into a cast iron skillet and finished under the broiler. Topped with goat cheese and fresh dill. It was bright, green, vegetal — a plate of spring.
Dad called after Jeopardy (his nightly ritual — he watches alone, shouts answers at the TV, and then calls Mom to tell her how many he got right) and asked if I wanted to come fishing next weekend. Dad. Fishing. In April. This is new. Dad fishes maybe once a year. I said yes immediately because any invitation from Tom Kowalski that isn't "watch the Packers" is a special occasion.
That Saturday at the Third Ward market — ramps in one hand, asparagus in the other, carton of fresh eggs tucked under my arm — I knew exactly what brunch was going to be. The frittata got all the glory, but honestly, the move I keep coming back to on a weekday morning when I want that same farmers’ market feeling without the cast iron and the broiler is a simple cheesy chive omelet: farm-fresh eggs, good melting cheese, and a pile of fresh chives that smell like spring the second they hit the butter. It’s the kind of recipe that reminds you why you bother going to the market in the first place — because fresh ingredients don’t need much help.
Cheesy Chive Omelet
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 8 minutes | Total Time: 13 minutes | Servings: 1
Ingredients
- 3 large eggs, preferably farm-fresh
- 2 tablespoons whole milk or cream
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/8 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 1/3 cup shredded sharp cheddar or Gruyère cheese
- 2 tablespoons fresh chives, finely chopped (plus more for garnish)
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard (optional, stirred into egg mixture)
Instructions
- Beat the eggs. Crack the eggs into a bowl and add the milk, salt, pepper, and Dijon if using. Whisk vigorously until the yolks and whites are fully combined and the mixture is slightly frothy, about 30 seconds.
- Heat the pan. Place a 8-inch nonstick or well-seasoned skillet over medium heat. Add the butter and swirl to coat. When the butter foams and begins to subside, the pan is ready.
- Cook the eggs. Pour the egg mixture into the pan. Let it sit undisturbed for 15–20 seconds until the edges just begin to set. Using a silicone spatula, gently push the cooked edges toward the center while tilting the pan so the uncooked egg runs to the edges. Repeat around the perimeter until the eggs are mostly set but still glossy on top, about 2–3 minutes.
- Add the filling. Sprinkle the shredded cheese evenly over one half of the omelet. Scatter the chopped chives over the cheese. Reduce heat to low and let the cheese melt for about 1 minute.
- Fold and plate. Tilt the pan and use the spatula to fold the unfilled half of the omelet over the cheese and chive side, forming a half-moon. Slide gently onto a plate. Top with a pinch of additional fresh chives and serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 380 | Protein: 26g | Fat: 29g | Carbs: 3g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 590mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 159 of Jake’s 30-year story
· Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.