As I scrolled through my Twitter feed today, I came across a
post about salt-cured egg yolks. "That reminds me," I
said to myself, "I think I have one of those sitting in the back of
the refrigerator." After a brief rummage through the bottom shelf,
I spied the prize: a small glass prep bowl containing a heap of
kosher salt encasing a single egg yolk.
How long this has been lurking in the dark recesses of the
refrigerator is a mystery. I know definitively that it has to be
less than three years, because I first spied salt-cured egg yolks
in Saveur Magazine, and I see from the EYB Library that
the issue came out at the beginning of 2015. In reality it's only been a
month or two, as this technique was one I added to my "must try"
list, which has a backlog of well over two years.
I chalk up this extra-long "must try" list to being a restless
cook. My husband complains that if he says he likes a dish, that
means I will never make it again. He's not altogether wrong.
Although I do have several recipes that I turn to time and again, I
continually seek out new dishes. Not content with just trying a
different twist on a familiar food, I want to experiment with new
techniques and taste new ingredients.
As a result, my kitchen cabinets are bulging with equipment: a
sous vide circulator, two blenders, an Instant Pot, stacks of
bakeware. The drawer are brimming with gadgets galore, so stuffed
that they often get stuck when a recalcitrant ladle gets turned the
wrong way. My pantry contains dozens of legumes, several varieties
of rice, condiments from every corner of the world, and more pasta
shapes than many Italian specialty markets.
While all of this variety keeps me well-entertained, I wonder if
having too many options hinders my ability to become a better cook.
Flitting about from one cuisine to the next and baking things only
once in a blue moon does not lead to mastery of any ingredient,
technique, or cuisine. Am I doing my cooking a disservice by
pursuing too many flings? Or does this relentless pursuit of new
foods help me by allowing me to build a broader base of
experience?
In either scenario, I end up with things like a solitary
salt-cured egg yolk languishing in the back of my refrigerator
until I stumble across a post on my Twitter feed. I've cleaned out
the fridge a couple of times since I gently laid the yolk onto its
bed of salt, covered it, and placed it at the back of the shelf so
it wouldn't get jostled. Each time I move the bowl, I make a mental
note to find something to do with the cured yolk, but never follow
through.
I pull the cover off the bowl to see if I should even bother to
put it back in the fridge. The salt has coalesced into a nearly
solid block, but after some gentle prying around the edges, the
block crumbles and out pops a deep orange translucent disk that
looks exactly like the magazine photo. (Some techniques, it seems,
don't require much practice.) Tomorrow is the day, I resolve, to
put this sunny yolk to use. If I don't find something else to do
first.
Photo of Cured egg
yolks from Saveur Magazine