whine & dine

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I love eggs. No, seriously, I love eggs. You know how you always have one retarded friend who’d take it upon themselves to inflict misery on you by forcing you to imagine what it would be like to only have one thing in the world that you could eat for the rest of your life? When that retarded friend of mine comes along, I always say eggs. (Maybe with prawns.)

As I mentioned previously, there’s a new cookbook store in town. And the first book that I picked off the shelves was Michel Roux’s Eggs. While my interest was simply piqued thanks to the rather in-your-face cover, I was immediately sold when I flipped through and found pages and pages of beautiful recipes, all of which either primarily feature eggs, or are on dishes whose specific characteristics rely on the behaviour of eggs (in whole or in part) to provide those features. And, as if I needed any more encouraging, amazing food photography accompanies the majority of these pages.

On Monday, I was due to cook for a friend’s birthday, while her girlfriend was out of town. (Babysitters.com, remember?) Unfortunately, she fell sick in the end, and hence the meal that was planned for her never really made it out the door. Or, it did, but it went straight into someone else’s mouth. Wei, lurking around after her immensely satisfying visit to 25 degree Celsius, quickly volunteered to fill in, and was hence treated to beer battered fish and chips, served with malt vinegar, tartar sauce, and some mustard Hollandaise. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

For our starters, I wanted very much to try a recipe that I saw in the abovementioned book. Its a recipe for sunny side up quails eggs, on miniature (4cm in diameter!) toast rounds and served with a light Hollandaise. However, due to some developments at work, I’m also a little obsessed with poaching eggs at the moment. Further, the bunny has been pleading with me – and making the bunny face – asking for Eggs Benedict for the longest time. Hence, I did a miniature version of Eggs Benedict, sans the bacon (which I kind of forgot about).

Mini Eggs Benedict
(inspired by a recipe from Michel Roux’s Eggs)

8 quails eggs (plus one or two extra if you’re not confident)
2 slices of plain white bread
melted butter
white vinegar
2 rashers of streaky bacon, halved crosswise.
chives to garnish
mustard Hollandaise (recipe follows)

Saw off the rounded ends of your quails eggs with a serrated knife, and place them in individual saucers. Bring a deep pot of water (at least 8-10cm deep) to the boil and add 2 tbsp of vinegar. This will help the egg whites to coagulate. When it starts to boil, gently tip one saucer at a time into the water where the bubbles are, then use a spoon to swirl the water around the egg to create a ‘whirlpool’. Let it cook for about 45 seconds over medium-low heat, and when cooked (press gently on the yolk to ascertain if it is done to your liking), remove using a slotted spoon, and transfer to an ice bath to arrest the cooking process. Repeat with the rest of the eggs.

When all the eggs are cooked, use a small knife to trim the edges. This can be done up to 2 days in advance and stored in the fridge in a bowl of cold water.

Prepare the mustard Hollandaise, and grill the bacon in the oven until crisp.

Use a 4cm pastry cutter and cut two rounds from each slice of bread. Toast the bread lightly on both sides until golden, then brush one side with the melted butter and keep warm. Heat a small saucepan of water to a simmer, then immerse all the eggs in for 10-15 seconds, just to warm through.

To serve, place one toasted round on each plate, buttered side up. Place one piece of crisped bacon on the bread, then top with two poached quails eggs. Cover half of each quails egg with some mustard Hollandaise, then serve a little extra on the side in a small spoon. Garnish with chives.

Yield: Serves 4.

Mustard Hollandaise

1 tsp white wine vinegar
1/2 tsp white peppercorns, crushed
1 egg yolk
65g clarified butter, cooled to tepid
1-2 tbsp lemon juice

20ml double cream
10g Dijon mustard
sea salt and powdered white pepper

Mix the vinegar with 1 tbsp cold water and the crushed white peppercorns in a saucepan. Reduce by one third, and leave to cool. Add egg yolk to the cold reduction, and whisk. Place your saucepan on a heat diffuser and whisk continuously until the sauce emulsifies, becoming very smooth and creamy after 8-10 minutes, with the heat gradually increasing. Do not allow the temperature to rise above 65C.

Off the heat, still whisking, drizzle the tepid clarified butter in a steady stream. Stir in the lemon juice, and pass the sauce through a muslin lined chinois to eliminate the peppercorns.

Whip the double cream in a bowl to soft peaks, then mix in the mustard until evenly blended. Whisk the mustard cream, little by little, into the Hollandaise. Season with sea salt and powdered white pepper to taste, and serve.

Note: The Hollandaise will not keep for long, so prepare it as close to serving as you can. Otherwise, keep it warm in a bain-marie (with hot water – not simmering water), with some clingfilm pressed down to the surface for an hour at most.