Pushes the buttons

Just recently, mankind moved an inch closer to perfection. And I do mean mankind;

women would have had nothing to do with this little pearler, yet again.

In the US, land of food exploration, the Washington Post reports that Dunkin' Donuts has released the all-new ''glazed donut breakfast sandwich''.

If I had an applause button like the one used by breakfast DJs Scotty and Nige - whom I have to admit I like even though I know I should be listening to grown-up stuff on ABC radio - I'd be pressing it now.

A breakfast sandwich - so eggs, bacon and cheese - only in a glazed doughnut! Are you not impressed?

You are most likely sitting over your quinoa and low-fat yoghurt and muesli, thinking this could be so much better.

This comes hot on the heels of the now famous and much scalped ''cronut'', a cross between, you guessed it, a doughnut and a croissant. Queues form each morning in front of the Ansel bakery in Soho, New York, and you can imagine the French protesting in their streets at the wanton bastardisation of their national food. What next, a deep-fried creme brulee?

I could not be more impressed unless they took this doughnut breakfast sandwich, battered it and deep-fried it in corn oil.

It's cutting-edge leaps of faith such as this that have got us where we are, teetering on the edge of obesity as the normal state of the developed world. I'm sure our early ancestors could not have envisaged the domestication of a grass, a bird and a pig could lead to such a perfect storm of culinary Russian roulette.

Thinking of all the stuff we eat now, you have to thank pioneers like this, who test the boundaries of the possible and sheer lunacy.

Who was the first to go that extra step and think, ''Well, I like goose, but what if I force feed it enough to engorge the liver?''

And who was that brave person who thought about eating the extremities of the pig, the feet, tail, ears and snout?

I collect these offcuts to use in my perimeter dining series. Whenever a local pig is sacrificed to the spit gods, I get these bits in a bag. But you never can get enough ears.

So when I found a little butcher in Dickson with a tray of hairy pig's ears, I knew what I had to do, and it is my gift to you this morning.

Hair removal has come on in leaps and bounds in recent years. Judging by advertisements, it seems no one wants to have any hair, like anywhere. So I'm looking at my dozen pig's ears and thinking if there's one place this rings true, it's in a pig's ear terrine. Nope, that just wouldn't be right. That's the conversation stopper.

Luckily, I won't have to use wax or laser therapy. An oxy torch works wonders on hair follicles in hard-to-reach places. Failing this (and I hope you try this recipe), you can use a disposable razor or one of those small flame throwers you use for cauterising a creme brulee.

This is a robust dish, challenging for everyone concerned, but it will help you create an interesting dinner. Serve it with housemade pickled vegetables or cornichons and toast, plus an acid-focused white such as a riesling or chenin blanc.

Bryan Martin is winemaker at Ravensworth and Clonakilla, bryanmartin.com.au

Pig's ear terrine

200g salt

400g sugar

12 pig's ears, de-haired

6 pig's trotters, cleaned very well

2 leeks, halved lengthways

2 carrots roughly chopped

2 stalks celery, chopped

1 head garlic, peeled but cloves left whole

6 sprigs thyme

10 juniper berries

12 peppercorns

10 stalks parsley

½ bottle riesling

2-3 litres stock or water

Dissolve the salt and sugar in about four litres of water and submerge the ears in this brine for a week. Have them weighed down so they end up pretty flat. Rinse off in a few changes of water.

In a stockpot, add the feet and everything else except the ears - you can do this step a day before taking the ears out of the brine.

Cover with the stock or water and cook gently for three hours. Pull out the trotters, remove and reserve any meat and fatty deposits. Strain the stock and discard the vegetables.

Place the rinsed ears in a stockpot. Pour over the reserved stock. Cook for three hours or until the ears are easily pierced with a skewer. Keep them fully submerged during cooking by adding extra stock or water as needed.

Line a terrine mould with oiled cling film. Fold in the ears - they're soft and will easily layer in - with the reserved trotter components scattered between the layers. Boil down the cooking stock to about a cup, test the seasoning - it needs to be quite salty - and once the terrine is full of ears and trotter pour the stock over the top, making sure it fills all the gaps. Cover and weigh down for a day in the fridge.

This slices so well and looks absolutely beautiful, the translucent stock with layers of ear. You'll be the star of the dinner party and in some way a food pioneer.