If you’ve ever eaten a Scotch egg, you’ll know that I do it no justice in this picture. A proper Scotch egg should have a soft runny center, and a perfectly browned, crisp sausage coating. Lighting for the image should be soft, not harsh with dark shadows.
But as usual, there’s a back-story. If you’ve been reading this blog for some time, you’ll know that there are situations that demand that I post pictures of unattractive food (i.e. the oyster post). This is one of those instances.
I have an obsession with Scotch eggs, and will order them whenever I see them on a menu. If you haven’t tried them before, April Bloomfield makes an incredible version at The Breslin in New York. And if you’re not anywhere near The Breslin, you can always check out the recipe in her book “A Girl and her Pig”.
I love eggs of any shape or kind: turkey eggs, quail eggs, farmers’ market eggs with their deep yellow yolks. So you can imagine my joy when I walked into the butcher one morning and saw that he was carrying farm-fresh goose eggs the size of tennis balls.
I knew that I had to use them in a way that would show off their size. No omelets or quiches here – it was time to go big or go home. Which in my mind called for one of two recipes – Scotch eggs or deviled eggs.
Giant deviled eggs seemed to be a little too Dr. Seussish (Seussian?) for my taste. Not that giant eggs in sausage casing aren’t weird. But at least the Scotch eggs would look like two round meatloaves.
I bought my supplies, and off I went, thrilled for my kitchen adventure.
When I got home, I got to work prepping my ingredients. I boiled the eggs, cooled them, and encased them in 2 lbs. of freshly ground pork sausage. I then put them back in the fridge, each egg now the size of a softball.
Rodney called me later that day to let me know when he’d be home. And he asked his usual question: “what’s for dinner?”
This is one lucky guy by the way. In 2000 he started dating someone who kept her Cornflakes and Clorox in the same cupboard. Now almost 15 years later, “what’s for dinner?” is often answered with “grilled salmon and asparagus” or “smoked pork chops and black beans”. But sometimes he hears the following, not one of his favorites:
“It’s a surprise.”
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