It’s a poached egg, wrapped in its whites like a tissue, galvanized by a reduction of Marsala, laid over a cream of white bread and covered with a sprinkling of crust. Tender, but not shy – like the a child’s memories, where the dish takes its name.
“The cream of bread crumbs underneath, with the poached egg sitting over the top like a bull’s eye. Inside the egg I put a Marsala reduction that harmonizes with the bread crumbs into a mix of perfumes that leads one to fantasize of the magic of a profumiere. Aromas and consistencies that together spark memories: a coddled egg with toast points and salt, a sabayon with Marsala, accompanied by steak tartare and a little salad, like my aunt would prepared when I was sick. Childhood memories.”
a practical mind