Closely Read Asparagus Bearnaise

You know the Deconstructed Menu Item conceit? I guess it's a few years old now. This is where a pretentious gourmet chef will serve, say, a Deconstructed Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich, which will be candied grapes, roasted sugarcane rolled in chopped peanuts, and sauteed wheatberry triangles, or something.

The idea is consistent comedy gold. I like to present Lawson with dishes like Deconstructed Spaghetti alla Carbonara (a box of uncooked spaghetti, a package of bacon, an unbroken egg) and Deconstructed Cat Vinaigrette (a bottle of vinegar, a bottle of olive oil, and the cat). The joke never, ever gets old.

All this is by way of introducing my dinner last night.

Lawson has been working absurd hours -- the contract he works under is up for rebid -- so he hasn't been around for dinner much lately. I believe that dinners cooked and eaten alone should be a little weird. (I think this comes from you, because we would always eat lighter, stranger dinners when Dad was out of town. Also, you once told me that when you were first married you just ate tortillas and cheese when he was gone.) Sometimes weird means mildly embarrassing comfort food, like pieces of cheddar cheese topped with powdered cumin. Sometimes weird means mismatched dishes: on Thursday I ate a spinach omelette accompanied by sauteed Swiss chard, because spinach and Swiss chard are two of my favorite things and I wanted them both. Generally I wouldn't serve two dark green leafy things at the same time, right? But mostly weird just means unbalanced, like one elaborately sauced vegetable and nothing else.

Anyway, yesterday I wasn't very hungry, but I wanted to eat the asparagus from the fridge. And I'd never made hollandaise or bearnaise sauce. I'm not sure I've even had them as an adult. You must have made hollandaise a few times when I was young, and that's the only time I've ever had it. So I wanted to try it, not least because of its reputation for difficulty.

But I was out of lemons. No citrus, period. So instead I invented this, which contains all the components of asparagus bearnaise but is infinitely more refined and witty. The recipe is doubled here, but you should halve it for solitary authenticity.

Steam until tender and arrange on two plates:
-One bunch asparagus

Top each plate with:
-One egg, fried, over medium
-Olive oil drippings from pan
-Salt
-Pepper
-Chopped fresh tarragon

Imagine:
-Lemon wedges

It was tasty.