Egg
classicPoached, on top, yolk broken. Smoke needs a soft fat to land in.
Yellow, smoky and salty enough to season a whole pan. Half the point of British breakfast.
Poached, on top, yolk broken. Smoke needs a soft fat to land in.
Poach it: casein strips the harsh phenols and keeps the salt.
Floury potato thickens the smoky broth without any flour.
Smoke, salt and sweet allium. Cullen has been doing it since the 1890s.
Basmati soaks smoke and spiced butter and stays separate.
Colonial breakfast logic: turmeric and smoke on the same rice.
The fish is lean and salty. Butter is the missing half.
Fat rounds the phenols off before they get acrid.
Raw green stops the whole bowl reading beige.
Smoke and butter, with the acid stopping the cure salting the whole plate.
Sweet green against cured smoke, bound by whatever poaching milk is left.
Aged cheese and smoke share a savoury bass note under the grill.
Sharpness in a sauce that is otherwise all fat and smoke.
Smoke and brine over a pulse with a mineral edge, not a sweet one.
Smoke and seed both need cream underneath to stop them shouting.
Peat and alder are the same phenols. A spoonful in the soup.
Lapsang doubles the smoke; the tannin dries the cream down.
Smoke and brine over sweet starch, which is bacon-logic with a different animal.
Petrol note and smoke phenols meet in the middle; the acid cleans up after.
Lactones under smoke: the strangest canapé that actually lands.