On Monday night, 75 people piled into a Kansas City, Mo., church to catch a free screening of "Mad City Chickens," a documentary from Tarazod Films that chronicles the resurgence of the urban chicken.

Unfortunately, like many U.S. cities, Kansas City makes it nearly impossible to have even just a few hens in the backyard. Chickens are only considered legal residents if their coop is 100 feet from the nearest home or business; they're certainly not allowed to roam. But the more people focus on eating locally, the more chickens pop up in backyards all over the United States (and Kansas City for that matter), legal or not.

Up until a few years ago, Madison, Wis., ("Mad City") banned urban chickens, forcing more than a few rogue backyard farmers -- known then as "the Chicken Underground" -- to get the law changed ... if they wanted to keep their chickens, that is. Now Madison is a veritable backyard chicken oasis, and serves as the backdrop for "Mad City Chickens."

Read about Big Tiny the rooster and Consuela the hen after the jump.

Tortilla. Photo: formalfallcy @ Dublin (Victor)/Flickr

Like paella, tortilla española is a quintessential Spanish dish. Ubiquitous on tapas bar menus, the circular potato and onion omelet is also versatile. Add peppers (as above) or chorizo for color and texture, or follow the lead of Michael Fiorello, chef de cuisine at Chicago tapas bar Mercat a la Planxa, who loves tossing in jamón Ibérico or seasonal mushrooms.

While labor intensive, basic tortilla española (an original recipe is after the jump) is well worth the effort for its inimitable flavor and flexibility. Adapt this recipe to suit your own needs -- perhaps finish it on the stove top, perhaps in the oven, as done at Mercat a la Planxa. Fiorello agrees: "You can cook tortilla using many different techniques." No matter how you slice it, tortilla española is addictive. If you can wait this long -- and you ought not -- it will keep for a couple of days.

Recipe after the jump.

Like ramps and asparagus, morels are synonymous with spring, and an edible reminder of the season's brevity. It feels less like morels have a season than a quick, annual engagement: catching them at the farmers market is like catching a solar eclipse, or Tom Jones at the MGM Grand in Vegas.

Morels are wild mushrooms that grow in forested areas throughout many parts of the country, and generally begin appearing sometime in April. They're usually available until the early summer, but their season can vary by a week or two depending on the region and the amount of rainfall. They're slender, knobby things with intricately ridged and wrinkled skin, and look like they sprouted from the pages of the Brothers Grimm. Their homely appearance belies their heavenly flavor, which is expressed to spectacular effect in the company of dairy, fat and and asparagus. Scrambled eggs are thus an ideal way to enjoy morels -- think of it as less an egg dish than a vehicle for delivering the best of the season to your very happy stomach.

Read the recipe for scrambled eggs with morels, asparagus and spring onions after the jump.

Have no idea how old your eggs are? It's not too hard to figure it out!

Not Martha set the foodie world on fire -- uh, 378 commenters and a bunch of blogs, at least -- with her BLT-themed, freestanding bacon cups. But they required three hours of effort and resulted in a house full of smoke.

Then Merriment Design came along and introduced a microwave to the process. Voila! Cups large and small whipped up in as little as five fire-free minutes. All they required were a few pieces of kitchen paraphernalia, some paper towels and a whole lot of bacon. Click through for the particulars of how it's done, and be in bacon cups all summer long.

They're cheesy, cheap and classic. What are talking about? Casseroles, of course! In this brand-new series food writer and blogger Emily Farris, author of "Casserole Crazy: Hot Stuff for Your Oven" crafts tasty new casseroles exclusively for Slashfood readers. Green Eggs and Ham is her premier dish -- just in time for Easter.

As a kid, I never understood why Easter dinner was called "dinner" if it happened at noon. Luckily, one of the great things about being an adult is that we can make our own rules and name our own meals. And because I still can't bring myself to call a meal that happens that early "dinner," this year I'm hosting Easter brunch.

Am I making a 10-pound ham and scrambling three-dozen eggs while my guests drink free-flowing mimosas? Nope, this thing is happening potluck style. Like most people I know, I can't afford to host lavish brunches (not to mention dinners!), but wanted my meal to incorporate the different elements of Easter and, well, be a little brunch-y. So green eggs and ham it was, with eggs, ham, spinach, biscuits and my favorite thing in the world: cheese.

After a bit of experimentation, I wound up with a sort-of upside-down quiche with a biscuit crust, and who wouldn't go crazy for that? Although it'd be a wonderful meal for Easter brunch or supper, it's also a great way to use up that leftover Easter ham. Regardless, it's the sort of thing that would make Dr. Seuss -- or the Easter Bunny -- proud.

Every spring, ostrich eggs appear at Whole Foods, where they nestle in beds of straw alongside the more diminutive and mundane quail and duck eggs. Glimpsing one is a little like watching that video of a pig suckling some tiger cubs: a novel and slightly surreal display of the animal kingdom's quirkier side.

Most shoppers pause to look at them quizzically, perhaps remembering the "Top Chef" contestant whose doom was sealed by an ostrich egg quiche. Others pick them up, marveling at their weight (about 3 pounds) and size. Very few people actually seem to buy them -- aside from the "What on earth do I do with this thing?" factor, there's the additional deterrent of the price tag: each egg, which is the equivalent of about 18-24 chicken eggs, costs $39.99. That's is a lot to pay for breakfast, even if it will feed 10 of your closest friends. But according to one Whole Foods manager, the eggs are oddly popular, particularly among those cooking for office parties. Apparently hummus and carrot sticks just aren't what they used to be.

Though their size may be intimidating, ostrich eggs are surprisingly easy to cook. Their shell is literally their biggest barrier, and that can be easily breached with the help of a hammer. Once you're in, you're pretty much free to do as you please. The watery consistency of the yolk and albumen lends itself to easy blending, and combined with a couple tablespoons of olive oil, some good cheese and whatever other fillings you prefer (the one here employed one bunch of kale, chopped up and sautéed in olive oil, and half a pound of Zingerman's Cheshire), the egg is perfect for scrambling. Its texture is lighter and fluffier than that of a chicken egg, and it has a milder, faintly sweeter taste that's incredibly delicious. It's little wonder that places like The Rooster Cogburn Ostrich Ranch, which sells the eggs for $15 apiece, are trying to increase their popularity. With a little bit of PR savvy, these beauties could be the next breakfast of champions -- or at least the toast of office parties nationwide.

Did a little yolk slip into your pristine whites while separating your eggs? Don't fret; here's how to fix it.

Last night on a subway halfway under the East River a quick purse excavation confirmed what we suddenly feared -- a distinct lack of house keys on our person. The day's lunch of leftover Easter ham and homemade challah bread satisfied our epicurean side but was woefully inadequate when it came to blood sugar maintenance -- hence the walking away, the leaving the keys behind and the "aw, crap!"

We panic a tad in moments like this and scramble right to our happy comfort place -- mentally cataloging the contents of our fridge, flipping the pieces this way and that until they interlocked and a picture formed.

The ham, gotta get through the ham. Well it could go with the red cabbage ... no, no ... the scallions. And eggs, oh right! We remembered to buy eggs. Tortilla espanola? Oh wait, got it -- still have that puff pastry left over from the Eccles cakes and that makes ... sacre damn bleu! We've got the makings for a serious quiche -- if we can actually get into the house.

By some strange miracle (we like to think it's The Secret, of course) our beloved husband materialized on the same train car two stops before ours, and in lieu of a civilized "Hi honey, how was your day?" we collapsed into him sighing "We'regonnahavequichetonightpleasedon'targue." Once in the house, we made a beeline for the Julia Child to verify proportions, and got to rolling, chopping, whisking -- grateful not to have to think, just to act. Half an hour later, there was a ridiculously delicious quiche in front of us, without single extra cent or second spent at the grocery store.

Perhaps y'all are more forward-thinking than some of us, but when do you actually decide what's going to be for dinner that night? Do you cook it all up on Sunday, and apportion throughout the week? Do you daydream about what's on hand and pick up any extra ingredients on the way home? Or do you stand in front of the fridge, staring, and make do with what's in front of you?




Get the Ham and Gruyere Quiche recipe after the jump.

We realize we may seem a little holiday-fixated around here. But one Easter has yet to come: Orthodox Easter, which falls on this coming Sunday, April 19. The use of two calendars often results in different timing in Western Easter's and Orthodox Easter's arrivals, which makes the day truly a movable feast.

Why is this worth a certain amount of hoopla? Well, look at the hunger pang-inducing bread shown above. One of the centerpieces of the Greek Orthodox Easter table, tsoureki paschalino (tsoo-REH-kee pahs-khah-lee-NO), or Greek Easter bread, is typically baked on Holy Thursday and traditionally shaped in a braid around an Easter egg. (The deep red dye symbolizes the crucifixion.) Tsoureki, a light yeast bread sometimes sweetened with a light touch of orange or almonds, has an airy, eggy texture similar to challah. A similar bread known as pinza is a mainstay on Italian Easter tables.

Within the Greek Orthodox church, Easter is considered by many to be the holiest day of the year. For many celebrants the period of Lent is one of self-discipline and self-purification during which one might refrain from treats or certain animal products. Additionally, on some days (traditionally Wednesdays and Fridays during the first weeks of Lent and every day during Holy Week) both wine and olive oil are also forbidden. The first post-Lenten meal is served after midnight Mass on Holy Saturday, where the traditional meal consists of mayeritsa (a soup made from the internal organs of the Easter lamb) and the deep maroon-dyed eggs that are part of the tsoureki.

Tsoureki is available in Greek bakeries; try this one, which ships its tsoureki.

Just as April showers bring May flowers, so do the hard-boiled eggs that arrive via Passover seder or an Easter egg hunt bring us, well, a lot of hard-boiled eggs. What to do with them all?

Many of those who celebrate Easter open a lunch box the first Monday thereafter to be confronted with a big scoop of egg salad. And while that's always an option -- as is the Cobb Salad that centers many an April luncheon -- there are recipes out there beyond the standards. So hide your eggs and eat them too.

First, though, safety is critical. According to the USDA, Easter eggs are safe to eat after the hunt provided you follow a few basic guidelines: Use food-safe coloring to dye the eggs and refrigerate them within two hours of boiling them. Boiling an egg removes a protective coating that occurs naturally on the shell, which leaves the shell vulnerable to bacteria. After the hunt, discard any eggs whose shells have cracked or that nestled in a bacteria-friendly environment such as dirt, hay or anywhere accessible to pets. Don't keep hard-boiled eggs away from the fridge for longer than two hours and use them within seven days of boiling them.

Beyond the jump is a delicious recipe for using those safely-handled eggs. (Hint: It's a salad, but it's not egg salad).

Everyone has his or her own way of poaching an egg. Some twirl the egg into a ghostly tornado in a pot of water , some buy special poachers and some even cheat and bake them. (One of our favorites is cracking an egg into a greased ladle and holding it in boiling water for 3 to 4 minutes.) This video, however, explains an even an easier way -- gently pouring eggs into vinegar-laced water.

Bay Area food editor Jenny Slafkosky here describes the particulars of poaching and how a little vinegar will help the albumin in the egg white coagulate (or firm up) more quickly. This is quite a discovery for those of us who love poaching eggs, all of whom have probably experienced watching them shred mercilessly in a pot of boiling water.

Slafkosky's simple method gets wonderful results, and -- a bonus! -- she also tells us how to make poached eggs for a whole crowd. Give it a click for flawless poached eggs down the road, and let us know how it goes!

Easter is almost upon us -- the wonderful holiday for excellent sweets and a proliferation of dyed, hard-boiled eggs. But rather than direct you to chemicals and pricey little packages to color your eggs this year, check out the video above, courtesy of Curbly.

They've taken a natural approach to egg coloring and offer some excellent techniques for getting both simple and fancy looking eggs with a mixture of all-natural ingredients -- many of which you can find in your kitchen. They might not be the dynamic, pastel colors that you can get from a box, but I love the great effects they get with simple additions like vegetable oil, wax and PVC tape. The video outlines just how they do it, and you can check out a text version here.

If you have any other all-natural color suggestions, please leave them in the comments below. Happy coloring!

As much as I love eggs, quiche was never one of my favorite dishes. I could appreciate the taste, but a few bites would always be more than enough. Nevertheless, the other day I decided to make one for myself and it makes all the difference.

Forget recipes with carefully measured ingredients. The key to a perfect quiche is filling it with tastes you love. It's that simple. If you don't want it to be too eggy, use less egg and more filler. If you want it to be less dry, fill it up with your favorite cheeses. If you hate to eat eggs without bread, make sure some grainy flavor and texture comes through in the pie crust.

The above quiche is a super-quick crab and asparagus. The crust was a quick recipe from RecipeZaar, that I threw a little multigrain flour into, as well as an extra cup of ground, toasted pine nuts. The asparagus was chopped and blanched for a few minutes while the quiche came together -- the crust, a generous layer of crab (imitation in this case) and asparagus, plus some chopped shallots, fresh basil and a mixture of leftover cheese. The eggs where whipped up with a generous helping of sour cream and poured in, and the quiche was baked at 350 until the top was firm and gentle pressure didn't release uncooked streams of gelatinous egg.

The pine nuts offered an excellent toasty flavor while the creamy eggs and cheese melded perfectly with the basil, crab, and asparagus. But really -- the flavor is up to you.

What's your favorite quiche flavor combination?

WC Fields once said "I love children ... if they're cooked properly." As a dedicated meat eater, I tend to have similar feelings about vegans.

While some of my best friends deny themselves the joy of animal products, I simply can't imagine completely divorcing myself from cheese, honey, milk and all the wonderful foods that come from animals. On some level, the idea of approaching life from a tofu haze seems almost suicidally self-abnegating.

In fact, while I have occasionally practiced vegetarianism, I am, at heart, a true carnivore. For health reasons, I try to limit my consumption, but I believe, both philosophically and sensually, that meat is an important part of my diet, if not everyone else's.

But which meat is the best? For health reasons, I'd probably go with chicken or turkey, but if it came to richness, my answer might be duck or veal. In terms of flavor, the answer could be lamb or beef, but for extravagance, it's hard to top a nice big buffalo filet mignon. Then again, in the summer, nothing beats a good grilled swordfish steak ... except for maybe a piece of lightly seared tuna.

Vote for your favorite meat after the jump.