Tonight I am confronted by a choice, and I am home alone to make this choice:
Soirée Spéciale Johnny Halliday (598th edition) or my imagination. I choose…my imagination.
To kick things off I have been indulging in the inner fish in me. Elodie doesn’t really like fish, particularly anything that smells remotely of fish. A tough call then. To be honest, the very suggestion of fish is generally greeted with a resounding gallic, “Non!”.
So tonight I indulged in Martelli spaghettini and poutargue, compressed mullet eggs. Sounds yummy, non? Poutargue, or Bottarga in Italian is a Mediterranean delicacy. It is widely called the caviar of the Mediterranean, an epithet which in my humble opinion does it no service. Caviar is caviar, poutargue is bottarga. Apart from the sea, they have little in common.
Orange, meltingly sticky and subtley iodised, I just shaved it in with my pasta, olive oil and pepper. Delicious.
To wash it down I opened a bottle of Diego Molinari’s Cerbaiona Rosso di Montalcino 2009. Of course, 2009 is a not much rated vintage in Montalcino, but Diego’s Rosso is quite fine. It has an almost Burgundian quality, silken finesse, soft tannins and refined length. Such qualities made it the resounding success at a recent tasting I hosted at home.
I have six bottles left and at cellar temperature they are refreshingly drinkable.
And now for my imagination, well if I can drag myself away from You Tube reports on Noma who knows. I really want to eat there.