There is a reason Unicode chose the fried egg as the emoticon that best represents this perfect protein. Creamy white combined with rich and silky golden yolk and, if you are lucky, crispy golden edges that come from oil, butter and a hot cast-iron pan.
The fried egg has no universal definition, and where I grew up, the fried egg looked like it does on the packet, the decidedly Anglo sunny side up. But the Spanish know how to fry. So when I moved to Barcelona, I came face to face with the best fried food a few Euros could buy.
Crispy double-roasted potatoes topped with a crispy golden egg and strips of acorn-rich jamon iberico, sweet roasted artichokes with the glistening crackle golden yolk, or one of my favourite combinations: pisto (red and green peppers, aubergines, red onion, garlic and tomatoes slowly sautéed in olive oil until soft and sweet) given the royal treatment with a fried crowning eggy glory.
Two people influenced my fried egg revolution. One was a celebrity chef who I met over the internet and subsequently became twitter pals, the doyen of Spanish cooking and techniques, Jose Andres.
Because Chef Jose breaks the mould. He refuses to let celebrity change him. He keeps innovating on the plate, in the kitchen, and online. His influence is as powerful in the upper echelons of the culinary world as it is with the kitchen hack like myself. He makes real Spanish cooking fast, fun and sexy. Because that is what real food should be; satisfying our basic instinct for pleasure in its purest and simplest form.
And he refuses to slow down. These are the sort of chefs and men I look up to. These are the sort of people that inspired me to write Papalosophy.
The second person who taught me how to fry eggs, and confirmed the Spanish dominance of the fry was the girl who would become my muse in the kitchen, and my biggest critic and supporter. She grew up on real Spanish food, and reminded me at every opportunity that simplicity is the biggest challenge for any chef, because there is nowhere to hide.
Aside from the technique these two beautiful people taught me, where the egg is literally deep-fried until a crispy white coating encases a runny soft golden yolk, I have discovered another technique that is equally simply and offers just as much joyful pleasure for the eater.
First you separate the yolk from the white. Fill a pan with olive oil and bring it up to temperature until it is hot and bubbling then add the white, frying until it is crispy and golden. Gently remove the white and add it to your plate with pisto, toast, fried potatoes, jamon or whatever you feel like serving.
Now, using a spoon gently slide the raw yolk on top of the white, taking extra care that it doesn’t split. Add some more oil and additional flavours like chorizo, rosemary, saffron or lemon peel and once bubbling and searing hot, gently spoon a little of the oil over the top of the yolk. This will cook the yolk ever so slightly and guarantee that when you take a knife to your meal, the golden yolk will ooze out and act as the ultimate sauce.
There is a reason one of the most popular cafes in Los Angeles is called Egg Slut and there are almost 150,000 photos on Instagram with the hashtag #eggporn.
“Eggs any which way you like ’em,” has been scrawled on chalkboards of diners around the world, so try ’em like I’m cooking them these days. Spanish Style.