Gerard Vives is a pepper specialist who lives in the south of France. I am besotted with his recipe for a single perfect egg with white peppercorns, herbs from the garden and a singular syrup of honey and balsamic vinegar.
Begin, as Vives suggests, with a farm fresh egg. This is essential. The egg is the star of the show and it must be a flavorful one, with a high, rounded yolk and albumen that is thickly gelatinous. (Around here Fickle Creek Farm’s pasture-raised hen eggs are the gold standard.) Crack it into a cast iron skillet set on the lowest possible heat. As it slowly cooks, scatter herbs from the garden around the edges so that their flavor will infuse the egg white—I used small leaves of basil, a sprig or two of lemon thyme, flat leaf parsley and a snip of tarragon (which he calls the “most violent herb in the garden”). Sprinkle a few grains of sea salt over the egg, add a generous grind of white pepper to counter the richness of the yolk, and then—here’s the stroke of utter brilliance--drizzle “pearls” of syrupy honey mixed with a dash of balsamic vinegar around the edges.
This is an extraordinary dish, best enjoyed in rapt silence. Make it for yourself, or for one other very lucky person. No conversation required.
One Perfect Egg with Herbs, White Pepper, and Honey-Balsamic Vinegar
(adapted from Gerard Vives, www.gerardvives.com)
To serve one:
Ingredients:
One large fresh egg at room temperature
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 to 2 tablespoons of finely chopped herbs: parsley, small basil leaves, thyme, a touch of tarragon
1 tablespoon lavender honey
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
Maldon or other flaky sea salt
Sarawak white peppercorns
Method:
1. Set a small cast iron skillet over the lowest possible flame. Add a tablespoon of olive oil and heat gently. Carefully crack the egg and slide it into the pan. Cook it very slowly over the lowest heat. After one or two minutes, scatter finely chopped herbs around the edges of the egg white. Cook until the white is just set and yolk is warm but still runny. This will take 6 or 7 minutes.
2. While the egg is cooking, mix the honey and balsamic vinegar in a small pan and heat until they are syrupy. Turn off the heat and keep warm.
3. When the egg is ready, use a spatula to gently lift it onto a plate. Sprinkle with a few grains of sea salt and a grind of white pepper. Drizzle the honey-balsamic vinegar syrup around the egg. Devour immediately.
The Back Story
One cold winter day in Paris, I was poking around Maison Israel, a dusty Marais shop crammed floor to ceiling with every imaginable spice and herb, when my eye fell upon an oblong wooden box. Stenciled on the lid was a map of the world and a label: Le Comptoir des Poivres. Inside the box there was an old English map of the Malabar Coast and nine cork-stoppered vials of exotic peppercorns, exquisitely fresh and full of flavor.
I was intrigued.
Le Comptoir des Poivres is the invention of a man named Gerard Vives. A Marseilles native, Vives spends part of each year trawling through Asia, seeking fine, often rare peppercorns for his Michelin-starred clients. He is also a self-taught cook. His home base—Le Lapin Tant Pis in the village of Forcalquier in Haute Provence—serves as a restaurant or an atelier as the mood takes him. He has thought long and hard about the differences between peppercorns from Sarawak, Muntok, Lampong and other ports of call, and how they might be used in recipes that coax their individual aromas and flavors to the fore.
I caught up with Vives in Paris this spring, when he came to give a pepper presention at the Salon D’Agriculture. He arrived at my hotel on a Saturday morning with his glamorous blonde wife and 19 tubes of pepper, including two of his latest finds: fruity red peppercorns from Pondicherry, and Voatsiperifery wild peppercorns from Madagascar’s rain forest. “I was the first to sell poivre sauvage,” he told me. “All the famous chefs wanted it. It’s fantastic with foie gras.”
When Vives writes about pepper, his prose verges on the poetic. It epitomizes a sensuous, almost romantic view of spices that seems particularly French. (By comparison the American approach to spice seems pragmatic and results-oriented.) Here’s what he says about creamy white Sarawak pepper: “a sophisticated and harmonious pepper… with an elegant beige coat, a delightful and powerful bouquet of fresh and woody notes, with delicate acidity. A strong presence on the palate with flavours of liquorice and hints of humus…”