Like everyone, I committed a few unwise acts in college. Not many, but a handful. Dropping stuff out a window wasn’t a brilliant move, for example. Dropping slightly heavier stuff out a window even dumber. (Don’t worry, no one was hurt.) Just after the dorm proctor barged in and barged out, we decided the solution was to “spin a web of lies”. Not wise, but it seemed reasonable at the time. Anyway, no one cared enough to investigate, and we survived.
Plagiarism, however, is another story. It’s the ultimate unwinnable collegiate act. They’ll unearth you like truffle sniffing dogs and then flay you before numerous boards until they expel you, don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Lesson learned for later in life when-if you’re famous-the media will publicly humiliate you into years of shame. In the final disgrace, Oprah will then scold you (see: James Frey-lying, not plagiarism, whatever), and you’ll end up in a dark room watching Full House reruns with Bill Buckner.
More forgivable is the filching chef, pushing out a dish he read about or ate or otherwise ingested. When it comes to food, everyone copies in one way or another. You’re dealing with the senses, in particular, the sense of taste, and the senses are mostly about absolutes. Which is why we love the smell of apple pie and bacon and a good grilled steak. You may not like squid, but there are enough squid lovers out there who’ll gobble up a delicious bowl of the stuff to warrant replanting the dish elsewhere. (See our meal last night at Supper, and the tiny rings, flash fried in plenty of garlic and oil.) Technique, rather than component, is the thing.
Sometimes I commit acts of unconscious plagiarism. Like the other day when I found myself scooping tiny ice cream balls and rolling them in poppy seeds and toasted coconut. The poppy seed idea, I was reminded, came from Hasaki and the coconut from O Mai, both good restaurants in our rotation. But they’re tasty and therefore good ideas.
Probably, I’d never invent that stuff had we not ordered it; the more you see, the more you copy, which is why toddlers are the truly original thinkers. But stick them before a bunch of ingredients and they’ll make chocolate pies with melted cheese and sprinkles. So, originality in food is overblown. Better to mimic the delicious. And you don’t have to spin a web of lies.
(NOTE: ice cream has been known to melt. Either speed through this or occasionally return the pint to the freezer. You can make the truffles early, freeze, and serve whenever.)
Ice Cream Truffles Three Ways
Serves 4 as a small dessert (or use a big scoop, or cones, or whatever. It’s ice cream. Play with it.)
1 pint vanilla ice cream
½ cup poppy seeds
1 cup sweetened coconut flakes, toasted
½ cup toasted breadcrumbs, ground to a powder (brioche are the best if you have it)
Zest ½ an orange
- Spread the poppy seeds, coconut, and breadcrumbs on three separate plates.
- Using a small scoop, roll 4 “truffles” at a time in the poppy seeds. Roll the next four in the coconut, and the final four in the breadcrumbs.
- Arrange the truffles in bowls, garnish with the zest and serve.
