Recipe: Baked Eggs with Kale, Tomatoes, and Cannellini Beans

The other day I was cleaning out my work email and came across this recipe that I’d sent to one of my coworkers. She said she liked the idea of eating more kale, but couldn’t get excited about eating a salad for dinner. I laughed and said I eat kale all the time, but I hate it raw so I only ever eat it cooked. “What do you just like, steam it?” she asked, and I felt obliged to share.

As one of my favorite and most regularly cooked dishes, it seemed only fair that I should post it here too. It’s easy and fast enough to prepare on a weeknight after work, but delicious and satisfying enough that it works well if you’re having people over for brunch. You can even get fancy and divide it into individual bowls before baking, if you’re into that sort of thing (I am).

Baked Eggs with Kale, Tomatoes, and Cannellini Beans


  • 4 eggs
  • 2 bunches of kale, cut or torn into manageable pieces, with inner spine removed, or 1 pound of the pre-packaged kind
  • 14.5 oz. can of diced tomatoes + liquid, or 3-4 plum tomatoes, diced
  • 15.5 oz. can of cannellini beans, rinsed of goo, or about 1 cup fresh beans
  • 1 onion or about 5 shallots
  • 2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
  • 1-2 tsp. olive oil
  • drizzle of balsamic vinegar to taste (about ⅛-¼ cup)
  • basil, salt, and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375°F.

Chop the garlic and onion / shallots and heat them in olive oil in a large pan until softened and slightly caramelized.

Add tomatoes, beans, vinegar, seasoning, and kale. Stir everything together, and cover the pan for a few minutes to cook the kale down to about half its original volume. Allow yourself a moment to be amazed at how much kale reduces.

Transfer everything to an 8″x8″ baking dish and level it out, then using the back of a spoon make four slight indentations. Crack eggs into these indentations and bake for about 17-20 minutes or until the eggs look done. If you want the yolks to be slightly runny (which is delicious) you can cook them until the whites are just solid. If you want the whole egg to take on the texture of a hard-boiled egg, you can bake for another 4-5 min.

Perhaps even better, I put the ingredients into a fitness app, and it estimated 514 calories for half the dish or 257 calories per quadrant. The app was pretty happy with me for this one, compared with my favorite quiche and lasagna recipes.

You can of course adjust it with whatever is seasonal or around. I suspect sautéed mushrooms would make a splendid addition. And if you are like my mother and hate balsamic vinegar, you can add a drizzle of lemon juice for some acidity, or omit it entirely.



Years ago, when people started talking about monetizing their websites, I had a tendency to read the word as Monet-izing, and I enjoyed imagining clean graphic layouts replaced by thick daubs of paint, idiosyncratic brushwork, and the beautiful colors and subjects of Impressionist painting.

Claude Monet, Île aux Fleurs near Vétheuil, 1880, oil on canvas, seen at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

I mean, that’s honestly so much more interesting to think about than money, isn’t it?

I’ve been blogging in some form and managing multiple websites for going on 15 years now, and as I renewed my hosting and domain registrations again recently, I started to think about how much those fees have added up over time. I am experimenting with adding some advertising to this blog and my knitting site to try to pay for the hosting. I felt really weird about setting it up, but it’s 2015, and I don’t think people are as sensitive to advertising as they were when monetizing was a whispered, sort of dirty word.

I’m also setting up some other projects that I’m hoping to get rolling in earnest this summer. In grad school I got so bizarrely indoctrinated to this idea that art is only for the people independently wealthy enough that they don’t need to support themselves as artists (“trust fund babies,” as one professor called them) that I felt strange and self-conscious about trying to sell art through any means other than a solo show at the Whitney. I’ve gotten over that cynical delusion and decided there is no shame in making an honest living, especially since I don’t have oil tycoons in the family to buy me a gallery show anyway.

I wrote up a business plan and goals, I made a checklist of things I need to do, and I applied for a Certificate of Authority for a business of sole proprietorship again. I have a daunting amount of work ahead, but working for oneself is always rewarding. I am a demanding but kind boss, and I occasionally reward myself with Nutella and Diet Coke, so I can’t complain. I don’t want to let any more time go by where I’m not investing in myself and working toward something personal, even if it’s a total flop. I will never know if I don’t try.

So fingers crossed, we’ll see what happens.


The first draft of my last post was from August 2013, and at the time I didn’t publish it because it seemed (and still seems) a bit of a whine-fest of largely self-made first world problems. I tried to bring it back up to 2015 and underscore how people in my financial situation aren’t buying houses, which affects other people’s ability in turn to sell their houses, retire etc., but the day after I published it the terrible earthquake devastated Nepal (please give if you can) and I realized how single-minded and self-absorbed I’ve been.

What was missing when I summarily said “I have to must” is the thing I should have the most of: Gratitude.

I am deeply and truly grateful that I am alive and safe, that I have not just shelter, but a home, that I have a loving family and friends who are also safe and alive, and on and on.

I am grateful that I have a job that I love most of the time and a boss so generous that he pays for everyone’s lunch every day. I am grateful to have health insurance and a 401k, and even if I feel like I never have any money in my pocket because so much of it goes to student loan payments, I am lucky to be employed in this economy and able to support myself. There was a time not long ago when this reality was a pipe dream, and I am thrilled to be on the other side of that.

Beyond material comfort, I am grateful to have a life full of light, love, passionate interests, fascinating and beautiful people, and so much art that at times it’s overwhelming. I was blessed with a family who not only supported me pursuing an education in art, but insisted I follow my dreams because they value it so much. That is a gift, and I need to remember how special it is.

I am also grateful for a basically clear conscience. I wish I made more time to volunteer and to be with friends, but in general, I’m happy that I treat people well, I’m honest, and I go about the world in a gentle, mostly positive way. I succumb to moments of weakness and frustration, like everyone, but I am trying really hard to replace bitterness, pettiness, and impatience with gratitude.

And what I realize, in all this gratitude, is that I may not have riches, but I have richness and profound beauty in my life that money can’t buy. I earned the ability to support myself, and I did it with integrity. I can hold my head up high and know I am doing the best I can. In the grand scheme of things, that feeling is worth so much more.

Dovere, debere, to must

When I was first learning Italian in Venice, I was charmed by my tutor’s translation of the verb dovere as “to have to, to must.” Chuckling, I explained that “to must” isn’t a gerund in the typical sense in English, even though we do say “I must…” or “It must be…” in comparative grammatical structures. It reminded me of a similar translation of the Spanish verb deber which includes the sense of having an obligation, owing, and being required to do something. Etymologically, the word “debt” goes to this common route (the Latin debere by way of the French dette) which paradoxically started with the verb for “to have.” As in, I have to do something, or I have an obligation.

In 21st-century America, I think we are strangely distanced from what debt means, but at a more rooted, personal level, we are more aware than ever. I remember being horrified when I first learned about the national deficit in math class, of all places, as my teacher tried to explain the difference between debt and deficit. I was aghast, as she hashed out this seemingly inconsequential difference, speaking so casually about how our country was insolvent. Did everyone else know about this? What were we going to do about it? Why weren’t we panicking??

That moment was also when money became abstract to me. Up to that point, my concept of money was that a person went to work, earned a certain amount of money in exchange for their efforts, used some to pay for daily expenses like food and utilities, and put the rest in savings for vacation or big purchases. Concepts of credit, stock investments, and especially interest, made absolutely no sense to me, and if I’m being perfectly honest, still don’t.

When I was a little girl, I remember a New Year’s themed radio commercial for used cars celebrating the dealership’s particularly generous financing policies. It was (to my thinking iconoclastically) set to the tune of Auld Lang Syne, singing how they forgave everything, “like re-posession, foreclosures, eeee-ven bankruptcyyyyy.” (I still fill in these absurd lyrics every time I hear Auld Lang Syne.) After walking around with the song stuck in my head for weeks, I asked my mother all about the terms in the song, especially the idea of bankruptcy, and we got into a lengthy discussion of personal finance and how debt could be negotiated, consolidated etc. After patiently going through the whole structure of credit and debt, we settled on the analogy that it’s like how sometimes stores set an item at a certain price, but whenever they want they can put it on sale. “Some money is better than none,” she said, and I tried to wrap my proto-Marxist child mind around goods and services having no intrinsic value.

My concept of the commodity of debt and its value as a purely theoretical concept remains as fluid and tenuous as when I was young, and the past decade’s national events have done little to change the impression that it’s all just an elaborate fiction. Its counterpart is probably speculation on the stock market, or maybe derivatives. At some point, it’s so much abstraction that it seems to mean nothing. Through crafty math and strategic deregulation, big piles of money get bigger, debts with interest accelerate to asymptotic exponential growth, the rich get mega-rich and the poor lose their homes.

I have had a number of startling and disturbing conversations with fellow college graduates lately, who by all the traditional concepts of the American dream should be establishing themselves in their careers, getting married and having kids (if that’s the chosen path), and beginning to own property. Every single one of us, however, has agreed that we can’t possibly get married with the amount of student loan debt we have because marriage is just an invitation to creditors to go after someone else’s salary. We feel like we can never afford children or homes or really anything beyond our current lifestyles of renting apartments (often with 3-5 roommates), lengthy commutes, no travel or costly hobbies, and more or less stagnation of our ability to contribute to society beyond giving all our time and energy to our jobs. And if we get brave and think maybe we can do it anyway, our credit is wrecked in colorful, elaborate ways.

I spend a lot of time trying to think of ways to turn my art and hobbies into money, but even if I manage to double my salary, I’m not sure the margin will be enough because my loan payments increase proportionately with my income. It’s like the government has worked out the exact amount of blood they can leave in my body so I’ll survive to make another payment, but sucking every drop until that point. I feel really lucky on the weeks when what’s left over after loans, rent, and bills doesn’t cut too badly into my pretty paltry food budget, but there are a lot of eggs and English muffins for dinner. In months when I’m sick, I have to decide between doctor’s office and prescription copays or my loans, and then the loans get higher and my credit gets worse.

Who benefits from me working a super demanding office job and constantly stressing about money? What might I have contributed if I could have finished my degree in chemistry, or been able to afford to live as an artist? How does society flourish or grow from Sallie Mae increasing interest rates to turn a profit this quarter, at the spiritual and financial expense of a generation?

I work more than 40 hours a week and pay substantial taxes. I know that my taxes went up to bail out a banking industry that traded on mortgage debt with arbitrarily inflated interest rates and an automotive industry that dropped all its workers but kept corporate bonuses. I have more student loan debt than anyone I know, but it is a complete abstraction to me. And yet, it is one that weighs on my every thought and decision, constraining even my most basic pursuits of love and family. I earn what should be a solid salary, but most of it evaporates into loan payments.

I think about the decisions I made to get from a very good public high school to where I am now. I worked my ass off to get into the best college I could, and I chose the one that offered me a full-tuition merit grant over half-tuition, but room and board and other expenses were still a fortune. Maybe I could have gone to a state school or studied something more vocationally-oriented, but without a liberal arts education and serious studio work, I would never have gotten into Pratt or had the background and experiences I needed to succeed at my current job. If the purpose of education is to improve one’s lot in life and become able to contribute more, I think it was worth it. But I know that if I had been able to pay cash, it would have cost me a fraction of what it did, and that seems really wrong somehow.

As candidates start campaigning for the 2016 presidential election, I find myself more concerned with the economy and student loans than many other issues. I’m also starting to see how it’s not just my own personal cross to bear, but that my generation’s debt is affecting everyone else and jeopardizing the nation’s future.

I don’t have a solution or even the beginning of one. I don’t have a way out of my own debt, let alone the entire nation’s student lending crisis. I am watching most of my money disappear into interest and ever-changing principles when it’s compounded and thinking about what I could be putting that money toward instead. I feel like I don’t have anything but debt and obligation. I have to must.

The one scenario I can be assured will not ever happen (but it’s nice to dream)

Hello Ms. Boardman, thank you for returning our call.

I’ll admit I was a bit confused by the voicemail, but I appreciate the detailed email explaining this new program for the arts. It sounds almost too good to be true.

Well, as we said, the US government has decided that we value the creative expression of the human experience. In reviewing your most recent tax return, we see that more than 1/3 of your income is spent paying back your student loans from art school.

Oh heh, yeah, I spent a lot of time in college, so I have some pretty substantial debt.

Well the Department of Education has decided to forgive your federal loans and buy out your private loans. In addition the Arts and Humanities Fund would like to give you a yearly stipend equal to your current salary, plus a little extra so you can travel more.

I don’t understand. What did I do to deserve this?

You’re an artist, aren’t you? You trained to be a painter and opened your heart and soul to emotion and thoughts about being human in this time and place on earth?

Oh sure, but I mean, I’m not even that good of an artist.

How could you be? You haven’t ever really focused on it. We see that you’ve constantly held other jobs and pursued additional degrees. You’re working full-time now and wearing out all your energy and emotional well-being worrying about your job. How are you ever going to develop as a painter in these conditions?

But what I make isn’t really of value to other people. In grad school they said it was amateurish and decorative and that no one painted like that anymore and…

What can anyone else tell you about how you experience the world? How can you know what effect an honest expression of your sensibility may have in others? Look, if you’re not interested you can decline the offer and continue working office jobs and scrambling to pay your loans. That is your choice. But we are trying to make it possible for artists, musicians, performers, and writers to have the same support we give military contractors and Wall Street investment firms. We have decided that while your value may not be inherently and immediately apparent in a capitalist model, there is more to life than money. Something about being human requires not just numbers and derivatives, but an elaborate sensitivity to experience. Our studies have shown the only way to achieve that is to expose the population to the arts.

I’ll totally take it, and thank you. I just feel like there are already so many more established artists out there in galleries and museums who are making a living at it and like, how do I even start to contribute to that dialogue?

You should just make the art. We will handle the money, and we have also established funding for museums and galleries that are not run like nepotistic hedge funds. We recently passed legislation that all Super PAC contributions must be matched with a donation to the new Arts and Humanities Fund. You wouldn’t believe how much money we have to support the arts now, and we figured people shouldn’t have to pay $25 to see rooms full of lackluster, uninspired painting and pretentious curation anymore.

Wow. That sounds pretty amazing.

The Met is going to stay free for everyone all the time, and we’re bringing back those metal buttons that you liked so much.

Oh man, surely this is a dream or a practical joke.

How will you ever make the world a better place if you don’t imagine how it could be different?

My MFA thesis was kind of exactly that point!

We know, we read it. It’s part of how we determined you were sincere.