Let Them Eat Truffles

The time has come to don elbow gloves and ascots, to turn the music to Bach and Mozart, and to leave all things bourgeois behind.  Today, we dine like the other half dines.
We get the finest aged prosciutto, the crunchiest baguette, the finest, most delicate butter, and eggs that a queen hen has just laid particularly for our enjoyment.  All of this to pay tribute to…
The white piemontese truffle.  Forget for a moment that you can only afford this by cancelling DVR for a month and because Eataly offered a one day only truffle sale.  Instead, just…
inhale.  The deep, woodsy, heady scent of truffles is strong and meaty enough to make you swoon and perfume your hands for the rest of the day.  You realize that you can’t stop sniffing your hands.  Rich people wouldn’t do this.  FOCUS!

Of course, you should shave this using a truffle shaver.  But, if you spent your last red cent on the truffle itself, you need to use a VERY sharp knife to make slices as thin as the late Brooke Astor’s hair.

Chestnut colored slices with pearly swirls..beautiful and intimidating all at once.  Don’t mess up the truffle!

Now take the most lovely lettuce you can find, preferably grown in a field pollinated by pixies, and wash AND dry it.  Yes, you must dry it this time.

Now gently place it-no throwing this meal!-in a bowl with scarlet half spheres of the sweetest tomatoes you can find.

Make a dressing with Sherry vinegar, Extra virgin olive oil, a healthy dose of imported Dijon mustard, a diced shallot, pepper, and a nutty, sharp, hard sheep’s milk cheese.  Taste it. If you don’t make a puddle on the floor, throw some more shredded cheese in. that should do the trick. Now dress the salad.

Take your other cheese and dice it into small pieces.  Try to steal only about 17 bites.  Make it a soft, triple creme cheese that costs as much as drinks for two at the Plaza Hotel.  If possible, it should have small slivers of black truffle in it.  If not possible, just make sure that the taste is so exquisite that the cheese becomes your Deity for the day.  And-for heaven’s sake-STOP SNIFFING YOUR HANDS!

Now take those fresh, cage free eggs-the yolks should be as close to fluorescent orange as physically possible-and crack them into a bowl.  Add large grained sea salt,FRESHLY cracked pepper (that is how we in the upper echelon do it), and the dices of that soft, truffle flecked cheese.  Also stream in a bit of crystal clear, filtered mineral water (i.e. tap water).  This makes the eggs extremely fluffy, since the water evaporates when the eggs cook, leaving air in the eggs.
Now get the MOST divine pan you own.  This Mauviel M cook frypan was sent to me by Emile Henry and can be seen in use here.  It has the MOST exceptional heat distribution, nothing sticks to it, and what should be brown browns, and what should remain pale stays the most ivory color.  Really a wonderful investment.
Now set the pan on top of a pot of boiling water over a medium low flame.  Make sure the pan does not actually touch the boiling water.  You now have a double boiler.  Booyah. (Do rich people say that?)
Melt a pat of at least 85% butter in there.  I prefer Irish.  You may use French.  Or Vermont.  Just make sure that it is some seriously creamy and unsalted stuff.

Now slide the egg mixture into the pan, and gently move a spatula around the pan in slow, wide figure eights.  Do not move the spatula in spastic circles or harried movements, or the curds will be small and grainy.  You want large, soft, creamy curds…

Like this.  When the eggs look about 90% cooked, turn off the heat.
Now-do you remember that truffle?
Add half the slices of truffle to the double broiler full of eggs, and gently fold them into the eggs.  For the first time since you held the truffle, something should smell better than your hands…

Shower the eggs with chives and the rest of the truffle shavings, and serve with prosciutto, salad, and a baguette.

When you can no longer stand the anticipation…take a mouthful.  The flavor starts in your nose and work its way down the back of your throat, through the sides of your tongue, to the very front of your mouth.  Your whole being feels warm, sated, simultaneously deeply grounded and dizzyingly euphoric.  The light bite of the chives with the sweet butter and rich cheese creamy eggs.  The satin-y sheen of prosciutto. The crunch of the baguette yielding to soft interiors.  The rainbow bright salad with the coquettishly sharp dressing.  And those umami laden truffles. The drape everything in their scent, their texture, their taste.  And you feel, if for just as long as you dine, that you live as the other half lives.

Comments

  1. Dee says:

    Oh yeah. My favorite way to eat truffles. Second favorite with homemade pasta. How did I miss the truffle sale??? I'm weeping now…

  2. Lobese says:

    Great post! That looks incredible! Truffles are heaven-sent. When it's not in season, I always have a bottle of truffle oil around. Totally blasphemous, but I haven't had the chance to check out Eataly yet. I'll need to get on that!

    Happy holidays to you! :)

  3. Joanne says:

    The rich totally say booyah. Ad by rich. I mean P. Diddy.

    Such a funny post! I can't imagine ever even holding a truffle. It sounds like a truly magical experience.

  4. Fritos and Foie Gras says:

    @Dee-I want them to bring back the sale so much! That would be a black friday sale worth shopping!
    @Lobese-it is seriously awesome!! You will love it!
    @Joanne-It is absolutely the most nervous I have ever been-and I have held newborns! they just didn't make my hands smell as nice…

  5. whozyerdanny says:

    Truffles, prosciutto, fresh baguettes…I love it when you talk dirty…and who wouldn't love $90 scrambled eggs? BOOYAH!

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