Oeuf mollet aux truffes
I said to myself that I was not going to write about food in these notes, but something I had last night has forced me to break my decision. There are just so many food blogs out there, and especially in Paris, written by ex-pat types who just can’t go home – wherever that is. I remember one of my favourite things that Jonathan Williams said to me : the best people travel, ‘cos there’s nowhere to go!
But this dish of a perfectly boiled egg sitting in what the restaurant described as ‘a cappuccino’ of potatoes, was the best thing I have seen and eaten yet on this visit. I don’t really hold with this cappuccino notion.It was really a very fine and fluid pommes purée, perfectly blended and of such a consistency that when the egg broke, it formed a perfect emulsion. On top were some shards of the finest potato crisps ever seen. And of course generous slices of perfect truffles.The blend of truffles and eggs is one of the greatest things ever, waiting to be discovered, for the palate. Nothing else excites and etherealises their flavour in quite the same way. SC
When you eat, you know nothing. But when you’re finished, you begin to understand !
Don Quixote. Cervantes
notes from an urban hibernation 