POST 6, PART II: TIME TO BRING OUT THE BIG GUNS

Now, where were we? Oh, yes – scotch eggs. Here’s how I made ‘em...

INGREDIENTS

100g white bread crumbs (that’s about four average-sized slices, to save you getting the scales out)
1 tsp paprika
Pinch of ground white pepper

400g sausages – ie, pack of six (buy the very best quality you can)
4 rashers sweet-cured bacon
1 tbsp fresh or dried herbs (to complement what’s in your sausages – ie, sage and parsley)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

8 medium eggs

Flour for dusting

Oil for deep frying

METHOD

1) Blitz the bread, paprika and pepper into crumbs in a food processor. You can use fancy bread if you like, but I don’t think it makes all that much difference myself.

2) Place six of the eggs in a pan of cold water and bring to the boil and bubble away for four minutes. Don’t do what my mother always does at this point and leave them boiling away for hours as they’ll end up hard and rubbery, with a nasty grey around the yolk. Remove and plunge into cold water.

3) Pulse the bacon in the food processor with some fresh herbs if you’ve got some. Choose your herbs according to what’s in your sausages by checking the pack – sage and parsley are good with pork if you’ve got plain ones. Transfer the mixture to a bowl.

4) Split the sausages with a knife and ease the meat out the skins and into the bowl with the herby bacon. If you’re not using fresh, sprinkle some dried herbs in at this stage. Add seasoning to taste. Mix together with a fork. Divide the mixture into six balls.

5) Shake some plain flour into a bowl. Break the remaining two eggs into another bowl and whisk together. Place the plate of breadcrumbs followed by a clean plate beside them – this is your scotch egg production line!

6) Crack the cooked eggs and peel off the shells. Gently does it – they’re soft-boiled, remember! (Unless you’re my mother.) Rinse and dry on kitchen-towel. Toss in flour and shake off any excess.

7) Working one egg at a time, take a ball of sausage meat and flatten it out in the heel of your hand. Place an egg in the centre and then gently envelope in meat, wrapping and pinching the meat until the egg’s completely sealed. Give it a gentle final roll to ensure even coverage.

8) When all of your eggs are covered in pig, roll them in flour, dip them in the beaten egg and then roll them in breadcrumbs. Place them on the clean plate as you complete each one. It’s also advisable to wash your hands each time or your fingers will end up a floury, eggy, bready mess.

9) Heat enough oil in a fryer or pan to just cover the eggs. (Incidentally, I have an electric wok that doubles as a fryer – well worth investing in one of these if you have a crap hob and/or are in denial about your regular deep fat frying needs, as am I.) To test the oil is hot, tear a bit of bread off and drop it in – it should turn golden and crisp in about half a minute.

10) Cook the eggs, I’d say, no more than two at a time for about six or so minutes until they’re golden and crisp all over. Drain on kitchen-towel. Leave to cool if you’re taking them to a picnic or eat warm if you can’t wait.

So as it turned out, it wasn’t him. Or me. It was some girl called Sophie. She’d been on the scene for some time, it seemed. She rocked up at this picnic... And, whaddyaknow, she couldn’t get enough of my scotch eggs – she ate two, I’m told. My memory is a bit hazy if I’m honest, as I spent most of the evening getting angrily drunk from afar watching her and Dom flirt. Coz she couldn’t get enough of Dom either, you see.

Dom didn’t make pains to save a scotch egg for himself before they were all scoffed and was perfectly content with the Asda sausage rolls Sophie had brought (Asda!). Clearly, had Dominic sampled the delights of my scotch eggs rather than Sophie’s reconstituted pig paste in pastry he would be mine, all mine. But some things, children, are simply not meant to be. Unlike Sophie and Dominic, who have been happily dating for the past three years, I believe.

Still, those were some bloody good scotch eggs. ‘Yeah, you can be proud of yourself,’ I reflected as I downed my gazillionth glass of Pimms and revenge-flirted with some random by the name of Stu (also a big fan of the scotch eggs, BTW). ‘Just look at what he’s missing,’ I mused. As I vomited in a bush, cried and had to be escorted home by my mate... Good work, Amy. Good work.

Illustration by Bex Barrow.