Our Recipes

Try to remember the first time you heard about the combination of truffles and eggs. I was on an airplane, flying out for a week-long visit with my nana. Ice melted slowly into the puddle of O.J. remaining in the clear plastic cup. My legs dangled from the chair, toes still inches from the floor, making me feel uncomfortable next to the impeccably dressed woman sitting next to me, who inexplicably took me on as a close confident, lavishing me with stories of shopping expeditions through the souqs of Cairo or scuba diving on Australia’s great barrier reef. Breakfast was served; scrambled eggs and sausage with fruit salad. “Oh God, what I wouldn’t do for some truffles,” moaned the woman in a tone that made my nine-year-old mind tingle in an odd new way. “What’re truffles?” I asked. She explained to me the mysteries and seductions of the tuber, and I was at once disbelieving and flushed with anticipation; how could such a thing exist, and where could I get some? The decades since then have occasioned a long list of truffle experiences. There was the unrecoverable bliss of “first truffle,” a cirrus of black truffle over hand-cut pasta noodles. There was the gold-miner’s delight of “truffle I found myself” pulled from moist loam in the southwest of France and stuffed into roasted guinea fowl. There was the madness of “best truffle,” an opulent scramble of white truffles and eggs served at the now-closed March Restaurant in midtown Manhattan. Eggs are indeed a recurring and inescapable medium for savoring the truffle, and the miracle of Black Truffle Salt is that you can concoct the living experience almost as easily as you can conjure the treasured memory. This recipe for truffle salt and scrambled eggs includes the option for serving them somewhat fussily in cups of their own shells to give this decadent dish some visual pizzazz. Serves 2 Ingredients: 5 large eggs 2 pinches Black Truffle salt 2 tablespoons unsalted butter 2 tablespoons crème fraiche 2 chives, thinly sliced If you want to serve the eggs in their shells remove the rounded ends of the eggs with a fine tooth serrated knife. I know this sounds nuts—and it is—but it isn’t that difficult. If you want to just serve the eggs in a mound on a plate, ignore this paragraph and start the recipe with the following one. Moving on, hold an egg on a plate and gently saw across the shell until a small hole opens up. Don’t push down hard or you’ll break the egg. Continue gently sawing until you get most of the way around. Now remove the cap and let the egg drop from the shell onto the plate. Pour it into a bowl and repeat with the remaining eggs. You will only need 4 of the shells for serving, which gives you an extra for breakage. Wash the shells and pat dry. Set cut sides up in egg cups or in a bed of coarse salt. Beat the shelled eggs with a fork until frothy; add a small pinch of truffle salt.Melt half the butter in a non-stick skillet over very low heat. When the butter is melted add the egg and cook over the lowest possible heat, lufting the egg with a heat-resistant rubber spatula until it sets into a mass of moist curds, about 15 minutes. Add the remaining butter, crème fraîche and chives and continue folding the ingredients gently until everything is incorporated. Spoon into the cleaned egg shells and serve immediately, embellished with a pinch truffle salt.

Man Ray. Some names were just tailor made for greatness. If my parents had thought to name me Man instead of Mark I might actually have made something of myself. Picasso. Nobody named Picasso could not be great, if you know what I mean. The name, Osso bucco has that air of irrefutable deliciousness. Veal shank braised in aromatic herbs, spices, and vegetables, a bit of wine and the incredible mouth feel of veal bone marrow that dissipates slowly throughout the flesh marrying everything in buttery richness, by any other name would be as glorious. So how do you salt a Picasso? The classic approach to seasoning osso bucco is to add salt up front, with the intention of letting the salt do its magic, slowly permeating the meat, helping to tenderize it and develop its flavors. In truth, the cooking method is sufficient to tenderize the meat, and the minerals naturally present in veal are enough to flavor it, especially since braising concentrates natural flavors. The cast of characters such as mirepoix (onion, carrot, celery) supporting the osso bucco don’t need salt to cook properly, though they can definitely use a touch for emphasis. With these facts and thoughts in hand, we can lightly deconstruct the immaculate osso bucco and approach salting it with a fresh perspective, salting less up front and adding a noble salt (like Piran Sel Gris) to its garnish of gremolata that traditionally tops Milanese dishes, providing us with a new name for perfection Serves 4 Ingredients: 4 pieces of veal shank, each about 2 inches thick 1/2 cup flour 2 tablespoons butter 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 1 cup finely chopped onion 1/2 cup finely chopped carrot 1/2 cup finely chopped celery 3 garlic cloves, minced 1/2 cup white wine 1 1/2 cups low salt veal stock or chicken broth 1 cup canned unsalted diced tomatoes 1 bay leaf Coarsely ground black pepper to taste Finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon 1/4 cup finely chopped parsley 2 big pinches Piran Sel Gris or other sel gris Tie an 18 inch piece of string around the perimeter of each piece of veal shank. Dust both sides of each piece of veal with flour. In a large heavy deep-sided skillet heat the butter and 1 tablespoon oil until it foams. Brown the shanks in the hot fat on both sides. Remove to a plate. Add the onion, carrot, celery and sauté until lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Add 2/3 of the garlic and cook until aromatic, about 30 seconds. Add any remaining seasoned flour. Add the wine and simmer until alcohol evaporates, about 1 minute. Add the stock, tomatoes and bay leaves; heat until simmering. Season to taste with pepper. Return the shanks to the pan along with any liquid that has accumulated on the plate. Cover and cook over low heat for 1 1/2 hours, until the shanks are tender.Mix the lemon zest with the remaining garlic and the chopped parsley to make the gremolata; set aside. When the shanks are fork tender remove them with a set of tongs to a platter, untying each one as you do. Skim the fat from the surface of the sauce left in the pan. Add the lemon juice to the sauce and spoon over the shanks. Drizzle with remaining olive oil. Add the sel gris to the gremolata and scatter over the shanks. Serve with black truffle risotto (pictured), or a simple pasta with olive oil and fried garlic.