I can’t believe it’s been so long since I blogged on my blog! The official excuse is that I’ve been working full-time instead of part-time for the last month or so, but honestly, it’s just pure, unadulterated sloth. I haven’t even cooked anything interesting lately. I did, however, manage to smash the screen on my lil’ netbook and without so much internet to distract me, I’ve been reading more than usual. I just finished Anthony Bourdain’s newest book, so I thought I’d do a mini-review of it, along with a couple of other collections of food writing from my bookshelf.
So I’m reading this book – Remembrance of Things Paris – Sixty Years of Writing from Gourmet Magazine. This is a lovely read, but it’s causing me a problem. One essay describes a dish made in Paris before the war called Eggs Amelie. This bit of culinary madness consists of cold butter shaped into eggs which are then dusted in flour and rolled in egg and breadcrumbs a couple of times. A plug is then taken out of one end and the whole thing is deep fried. The butter melts and pours out, leaving a fragile, delicate eggshell of fried breadcrumbs, which is then filled with creamy scrambled eggs studded with truffle. I AM DESPERATE TO TRY TO MAKE THIS. And I haven’t even told you about the nest they’re served in, made of fried shoestring potato deep fried between two differently-sized wire mesh baskets.
I should probably step away from the kitchen and just survive on meal replacement shakes for a while.