Yes that’s right folks. Whilst it may also be duck season, and rabbit season. It is now most importantly truffle season ! As the weather cools and the rain falls, you can take some comfort in the fact that those little nuggets of earthy goodness have been slowly growing in their special funghi like way for the past year (or 6 or 7 years perhaps) and are now ready to be harvested and savoured.

W.A is fast becoming a truffle haven it would seem. With the Mundaring Truffle Festival going from strength to strength each year, and Manjimup truffles being joined by Pemberton (The Stone Barn has just harvested it’s first truffles), and others in the works. It’s a boutique industry success story.

I picked up a little truffle at the Perth edition of the Good Food & Wine Show last weekend. It was from the Manjimup Wine & Truffle company who currently supply most (if not all) the black truffles you find in restaurants and gourmet stores across the country. Apparently the little 15gram piece I bought had been harvested the day before, and was vacuum sealed with a little padding for maximum freshness so it would still taste as strong as it did when it came out of the ground.

I like to do as little as possible to truffles. I think their uniquely pungent flavour should be the star of any dish they’re added to, and my lack of finesse when deal with fancy ingredients tends to lend itself to simple classics.

As such, the two dishes I made with this truffle were: Asparagus / Poached Egg / Black truffle, and a very simple truffle risotto with scallops.

My egg poaching method these days involves boiling water, white wine vinegar, and then just dropping the egg directly into the water without swirling or wrapping anything in cling film. The secret to the beauty of this is using really nice fresh eggs. The eggs I had this time were sourced from a stall at the Subi Farmers Market, and based on shape and consistency alone were obviously far superior to the supermarket eggs I’ve dealt with in the past.

The risotto was made using a chicken / rabbit stock as the base, and a little milk added along the way. I got the idea for the milk from Vince Velletri who used a similar method to cook the risotto for the Slow Food Perth lunch at the Mundaring Truffle festival last year. I was responsible for stirring about 10kg of rice that went into one massive pot and the memory still sticks in my head. The idea behind the milk is really just to mellow the flavours of the onion etc in the base so that the truffle has more poignancy in the dish.

The rest was simply frying some scallops in butter for 20 seconds or so on each side, and then shaving what was left of the fresh truffle over the top.

Served with a Bellarmine 2004 Riesling, it wasn’t a bad meal at all.

Really looking foward to the upcoming Truffle Festival at the end of this month, and you should all get up there and check it out.

A pictorial guide for the adventurous:

I find it simultaneously strange and wonderful that I’m writing a recipe for the dish that single handedly made me loath pasta.
As a younger man I once graced the hallowed halls of an institution who’s culinary aspirations were not what I’d call astronomical.
I’m sure some of you may have fond memories of your school days, but my final years of high school were spent confined to a boarding school who’s idea of catering was to open a large can of something mysterious and pour it over toast.

The list of things that boarding school food turned me off was actually fairly extensive. Among them, steak diane, ham steaks with pineapple, lasagne, meat pies, hot dogs, and pretty much all forms of vegetable. There was very little that the lovely ladies in the kitchen could not make taste disgusting and industrial. I’m quite surprised I developed any kind of food obsession at all after doing my time there.

The carbonara of course was on it’s own existential plane of badness. A thin, watery, creamy sauce, with stodgy pasta and either thick chunks of mostly raw mushroom or a slurry of mushroom goo (depending on whether you were the first or last table to get your food). The older and wiser would pick out the bacon and chicken (or whichever meat they’d decided to add), and leave the rest, and then intimidate the young and new into handing over theirs.

It should come as not too much of a surprise then that it’s not the first thing I’d ever order on a menu at my local Italian restaurant. But then as is often the case, it seems I’ve had carbonara wrong all these years, and it took Mr Vincenzo Velletri to set me straight.

Vincenzo is a man who’s love of food and his Italian heritage knows no bounds. A chef, caterer, butcher, and educator. It was after talking to Vincenzo at a Slow Food Perth event that I realised he had in his possession some very special cured meat, namely Guanciale, that he’d made himself from a friends pigs.

Never having heard of Guanciale before I did what any good food nerd does, and headed to the internet for enlightenment. Soon discovering that it’s the meat that should be used in a traditional carbonara. My investigations into carbonara then led me to the shocking revelation that the traditional recipe contains no cream, mushroom, or watery goop whatsoever ! Amazing !

Armed with new knowledge and a hefty chunk of cured meat, it was time to reinvent my taste buds.

Fettucini Carbonara

How I made mine

Now I know this is going to be annoying to the majority of the world, but the simple fact is that Guanciale is hard to find. Unless you have a great traditional Italian butcher or know someone who makes it, then your chances of stumbling across it in a shop are relatively slim. It’s a particularly fatty piece of meat, and is actually the pigs cheek which has been cured in salt, pepper, and chilli for a few weeks. All I can say is that is gives the dish an intensity that you don’t get with just bacon. Pancetta (being cured pork belly) is probably the closest thing you’ll find to use as a substitute.

So firstly slice your meat up into small pieces, mince the garlic and fry it in a hot pan with olive oil until it’s soft, then add the meat and fry them together. The fat will start to come out of the guanciale, and create a lovely slick.

Put your pasta into a pot with plenty of salt and boil it til it’s al dente (or a little before, because it’ll continue to cook once it comes out of the water).

Once the pasta is done, drain it well and then add it to the pan with the guanciale, tossing it well.

Now comes the magic. Crack the eggs and mix them together with the cheese, take the pan completely off the heat and then pour the eggs into the pasta, stirring constantly to combine it. What you’re making is a very simple sauce where the egg cooks just enough from the heat of the pasta to bind it all together with a lovely creamy texture. Add a little of the pasta water if you need to get some more movement happening.

Toss it all together well, add the handful of parsley and a sizeable portion of fresh cracked pepper to give it the bite it needs, a little salt to taste, and that my friends, is that. No cream, no mushroom, no white wine… Just some very basic ingredients combining together to make a very beautiful result.

Now to get started on changing my opinion of chicken nuggets…

A short story of a quick meal entitled “Leek and Broccolini Frittata”

The ingredients

3 eggs
3 splashes of milk (maybe 1/2 cup)
a healthy knob of butter
a handful of chopped leek
a handful of chopped broccolini
a clove of chopped garlic
a sprinkling of parmesan cheese
a smattering of chopped parsley
a drizzle of olive oil
a seasoning of salt and pepper

The directions:
Beat the eggs gently, stir in the milk, season with salt and pepper.

Sautee the garlic, leek, and broccolini in butter in a small omelette pan. Once they’re cooked to mostly soft, but still have a little fight left in them, pour in the eggs.

Stir the eggs through so the vegetables are well separated. Once the base of the eggs sets, sprinkle the top with parmesan and put it into a hot oven (or under a grill) to finish off.

When the top is solid and the level has risen slightly, take it out of the oven and slide / manhandle it onto a plate.

Drizzle a little olive oil over the top, add some parlsey, salt, and pepper to finish. Decide that it could go very nicely with some lovely chilli jam (courtesy of Hank)

Serve. (and gloat at how simple and easy it was).

Pour a glass of superb 2007 Mantra Reserve Chardonnay (graciously sent to me by the affable Brad of Wine by Brad) and marvel at it’s subtle length, buttery warmth, toasty oak, lemony fragrance and old school charm. And how delightfully well it goes with the eggy resonance of the frittata. Pat yourself on the back and go to bed happy.

The end.

So on a lazy Sunday morning, waking up at the crack of noon, making my lady and I some poached eggs and easing ourselves into the day the way only we can… It was a nice surprise to find this little blog mentioned in an article in The Australian. I’m not sure why I get a buzz out of seeing myself in print, it’s happened a few times now, but I guess it’s nice to get a little recognition, or at least to know that I’m not the only person reading it… which would be sad.

So I had a call from Steve the day before to let me know that he’d come across it, and so we headed out and bought a copy to see just exactly what was there. The article is an interesting piece based on an article in the New York Times, about how food bloggers are having an impact on how restaurants and other establishments market themselves, and under what level of scrutiny they fall. It was critical in particular of US bloggers who interrogate staff on the opening night for all the information they can get, so they get their review out first.

The article then went on to talk about Melbourne food blogger Ed of Tomatom, and how he’s had positive experiences with people finding reviews of restaurants on his site, that have been largely ignored by traditional media reviewers.

So… in short, US bad, Australia good… bloggers, keep your opinions to yourselves. The bit involving me was a link at the end of the article (I tried to click it, but it went nowhere), to a page I put together that lists the top Australian food blogs by querying technorati for rankings. So a nice little spot of publicity, and a bit of excitement on an otherwise yawn worthy weekend… Still, that’s just the way we like them around here.

The excitement over, I went and made myself a coffee and in my rush to drink it, managed to spill it over the paper… from fame to coffee stain in 2 seconds… still, the coffee was great, and my latte art is reaching a stage of sloppy consistency that will no doubt have the real baristas quaking in their boots in no time, as they prepare themselves for the W.A Barista Competition.

Some days are good like that.

I’ve rambled on about my love of eggs far too often on this site for it to have any effect at all anymore, but bear with me just one more time while I recount a tale of a lazy Saturday morning, and the breakfast that was.

Waking up on Saturday morning is a slow process. Normally involving numerous nearly/almost/not quite attempts to get out of bed, followed eventually by a languid roll into a standing position, where I wait the prerequisite 3 1/2 minutes for my eyes to adjust to the light. Following this I wander around looking for something to eat, and probably drink something out of the container while I wait for inspiration to strike me.

Last weekend, it struck me truly. I had it all… A carton full of fresh free range/organic/sanctified with holy water eggs, some (more than likely not free range) bacon, and a little jar of magical stuff… Black Truffle Salsa.

Now, I’m not assuming anyone here knows people as nice as Deb of The Food Palate, who will willingly send you expensive condiments in exchange for home roasted coffee… But i’d suggest you find someone if at all possible. The Black Truffle Salsa is made by Tetsuya’s (maybe not personally, but definitely branded by him), and sold in gourmet stores in Sydney (I assume…help me out Deb?). It’s a mixture of Black Summer Truffles, Mushrooms, Oil, and other goodness, combined together to give the most pungent truffly smell imaginable (unless of course you own a trufflery… in which case… call me).

So after that decision was made, the rest was simple. Scrambled eggs with black truffle salsa, on top of toast, bacon, and topped with baby spinach.

How I Made Mine
Crack your eggs into a bowl and beat them together lightly. Take a teaspoon of the black truffle salsa and mix it thoroughly through the eggs… leave it to sit a little while to let the flavour infuse more. Now over a medium to low heat, melt the butter in a pan, and when its just melted, pour the egg mixture in. Keep the heat low and gently mix the eggs around into the butter. Just as you see it start to bond together, add the cream, and stir through the eggs gently. Continue to stir for a minute or so, until its all just cooked, but still moist, then season with salt and pepper to taste and serve immediately onto of toast, bacon, and topped with the baby spinach.

The salsa was very strong. Even in 6 eggs, with the cream and other flavours in there as well, the taste of the truffles was still right at the forefront… A truly decadent start to the morning.

As always washed down with a beautifully textured latte from my ever loving, hard working Rancilio Silvia.

Sadly, this was probably the peak of my level of activity for the entire day… but then, that’s just how I like it…

Well egg week continues here at Abstract Gourmet. Lazing around last night, wallowing in my own little world of ennui, and too lazy to cook a “proper” meal. I once again turned to my new favourite book of the moment, Eggs, by Michel Roux.

This recipe was supposed to be called “Herby Poached Eggs in Mousseline Potato Nests”. Problem was I was running low on potato, and so I made the executive decision to give sweet potato a run. This was easy as pi (3.14159 26535 89793 23846 26433 83279 50288 41971 69399 37510…). Boil some sweet potato in salted water until its soft. Drain, mash, add butter, mash again, add a little milk, some baby spinach, and some parmesan, mash again. Stop.

Cook two poached eggs to perfection, make a little mound of mash on your plate and put a hole in the middle, drop the eggs in and top with a sauce or stock reduction of your choice. I choice to reduce a little of my home made chicken stock with a stick of butter and a touch of corn flour. Then a little cracked pepper and we’re done.

My first successful attempt at making hollandaise sauce. This one came from Michel Roux’s Sauces (actually its in both his Egg’s book, and his Sauce’s book), but the recipes are identical. Basically white wine vinegar, water, and white peppercorns into a pan, reduce volume by a third. Let it cool. Stir in 4 egg yolks… put it back over a low low heat until it starts to thicken up. Now when its got a nice thick creamy consistency, take it back off the heat and gradually add clarified butter until you’ve got the taste and consistency you want. Season with salt to taste, and add some lemon juice just before serving.

The poached eggs are getting better by the day… the method keeps on getting perfected every time and I’ve got a kind of cross between the whirlpool method and the simmer over bubbles method that has been giving me great shape and perfect consistency inside.

So… toast some turkish bread loaves, cook some bacon… Layer the bacon on the loaves, put the eggs on top, wilt some baby spinach in a pan with a little butter, and then put that on top. Smother the whole thing with freshly made hollandaise.

Yum.

** Updated with some photos of recent poaching **

Or perhaps more appropriately… How I poach my eggs.

Eggs are one of my favourite breakfast foods. Bacon being the ultimate companion to eggs, and hash browns their illegitimate half brother. When asked how I’d like my eggs, I will 9 times out of ten say poached. I don’t know what it is, but poaching eggs seems to me to be the most true to form way to appreciate the luscious eggy goodness, as the yolk spills out in a molten lava like cascade of yellow gold into a well toasted slice of thick crusty bread.

Until recently however, I’d be using the lazy mans method of poaching eggs. That is, fill a frying pan with a couple of centimetres of water… get it to a simmer, crack in some eggs, and gently splash water over the surface of the yolk until it turns a nice shade of pink. The end.

This method works ok… but I’d always wondered how cafes and restaurants managed to serve me those great little poached egg cocoons… with the white wrapped around the yolk in a tight protective little ball, waiting to gush out as soon as its cut into.

So enter Gordon Ramsey to save the day. I should have known i’d find my salvation from a loud annoying Englishman who swears too much… Actually, for all his short comings as a general human being, Gordon makes some great food, and the book he put out after the Kitchen Hell series was full of a great set of “basic” cooking techniques to know… like how to dry lettuce leaves, how to make a white sauce, how to fillet, pinbone, and skin fish… and… how to poach an egg.

The technique is really very simple, but I love the results.

So…

Get a large heavy based pot and fill it with water. Get the water boiling and season it well with white wine vinegar. The vinegar helps to strengthen the albumin in the egg white, which will make it hold together, and give a nice rounded shape.

Then, using fresh eggs (which is important, as fresh eggs will have the white clinging to the yolk quite strongly), crack them into a shallow cup to make sure they aren’t broken. Then use a slotted spoon to spin the boiling water into a sort of a whirlpool/vortex/worm hole in the space time continuum.

Once the water is spinning quite fast, drop the egg from the cup into the centre of the whirlpool, where it will spin around and hopefully coat the yolk all around in a nice little ball of the egg white as it hardens. You can do a couple of eggs at a time if you’re feeling adventurous, but I normally stick to one to make sure i’m not going to mash one up while I’m spinning the water again.

This method needs only a minute or two in the boiling water for the egg to be ready, with the yolk still at a nice thick but runny consistency (which is exactly how I like it), having been sheilded from the heat, snug in the wooley cotton brains of infancy (sorry, Jim Morrison flashback).

So if you’re a self confessed egg lover, yet to experience the glorious highs of true yolk appreciation… give this method a try and let me know what you think.

This is another in a series of faux spiceblog posts that I seem to keep arriving at. What can I say, the man is good.

So it lazy Saturday morning, but for once i wasn’t going to be satisfied with weetbix, toast, or even (shock horror) bacon and eggs. (Although that was mainly because I didn’t have any bacon).

Realising that I still had a lovely piece of salmon left over from last week, I remembered Anthony’s recipe and thought i’d give it a try.

It turned out really nice, and i did my normal routine of substituting in things I have for things I don’t, which always seems to work out ever so nicely.

Cherry/Grape Tomatoes are officially my favourite egg accompaniment.