Easter had almost passed me by. Normally I would be carving chocolate plans, dying eggs, pickling eggs, trying all the different eggs I could try. Last year I had turkey, goose, rhea, ostrich and many more. This year, nothing. Easter had crept up on me with stealth.
So, I tweeted on Thursday morning that I was a little disorganised, only to receive a swift reply from a man calling himself the Egg Boss.
Ostrich egg? From a man who scotches? Well, I was intrigued.
And that is how I found myself on the bus to Camberwell on Good Friday morning.
Now, maybe it is not too clever to arrange to meet a random stranger – even if he is the Egg Boss – in an industrial unit in a part of London that you don’t know at all. But, I had faith. He is a friend of The Rib Man you see, whom I have met and chat to all the time, and we were going to use his terrific and slightly crazy hot sauce and his rib meat to scotch one of the eggs.
We started with dessert. A creme egg, coated in peanut butter and jam, blast frozen then coated in coco pops and smoked sea salt. Deep fried until crisp, I couldn’t resist a chomp while it was till warm. It reminded me of the star bars of my youth, but with that smoked sea salt to lift it. Really filthy as eggs go, but a must if you get a chance to try it.
A savoury break to try the black pudding scotch egg and the holy f**k one (it is hot, and is spiced with The Rib Man’s sauce). Terrifically savoury, runny yolks, crispy shell, I loved them. Egg Boss brown sauce on the side, I had to stop mid way egg two, I needed room for the ostrich one.
So on to the ostrich egg. We cooked it for 50 minutes, just a little too long for a perfect runny yolk, but it wasn’t overcooked at least. This 2kg monster was cooled in ice and water before we packaged it in a meaty sarcophagus. Then we rolled it in many hens eggs, breadcrumbs and more eggs. Over and over until we had a perfect crumb coating.
Then we fried it. 170 deg C for approximately half an hour. Seán sat it in greaseproof paper as it fried so that we could gently roll it around. A gentle probe with a thermometer confirmed it was cooked.
A quick photoshoot for the egg and it was ready to taste. The ostrich white is an odd translucent but it tastes, well like an egg as you would expect. A little stronger but not by much. The sausage was terrifically spiced with The Rib Man’s sauce and the crumb crisp.
I just had a little bit and then I was off. That was egg number four for that me morning, and an enormous one at that. What a brilliant day! Lots of fun, lots of scotch eggs of varying tastes and sizes. I highly recommend you try some – catch the Egg Boss at his stall every Saturday at Brockley Market.