Guys, the day you’ve been waiting for is finally here – happy Tony’s Eve. Sadly though, that means our Tony Gold coverage is about to come to a crushing end but I can assure you, I am not throwing away my shot.
In addition to it being the pinnacle of Tony Gold, today also marks our 400th – yes, four FUCKING hundredth – recipe. And when a milestone like that rolls around, I am not throwing away my shot. He yo, I don’t like the country, I’m young, scrappy and this is fame hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot celebrating this milestone, so invited my dear friend and true Broadway treasure Lin-Manuel Miranda.
But seriously can you take a brief pause here to think about the fact that I’ve had this many celebrity friendships survive my horrific behaviour? Say what you will about the entertainment biz, but those people truly have the patience of saints when it comes to my transgressions (I guess that comes with the territory when you’re a white male).
Anywho, I’ve known my boy Linny-Mans for years, having grown up together in the heights which inspired him to write his first hit musical In the Heights. It would come as no surprise that the character of Sonny was inspired by me and my sassy attitude.
Given the phenomenon of Hamilton and the fact that it inspired this year’s celebrations, I knew we had to finish the celebrations with my dear, sweet friend who I love is love is love so damn much.
Oh and I had to honour the fact he inadvertently inspire my high school drama teacher to write an original musical compiling the plots of Blood Brothers, Bootmen and Romeo & Juliet that I played as high comedy, to distract from the fact it was poorly written.
Sorry – I mean it was wonderful and Trapt is essentially the Tweed Heads/Banora Point version of Hamilton, Muriel’s Wedding be damned.
Since we’ve pretty much covered all the major categories, Lin-Man and I only had to look at the OG Score. While he is more forgiving and has chosen to back the men that robbed him of his EGOT for Dear Evan Hansen, he know how far I’ll go … and that is to undermine their chances and back Come from Away our my compatriot Tim-Min for Groundhog Day.
After getting the serious part of our date out of the way, I got to work whipping up a meal while he toasted the success of this patch of future-Peabody-winning cyberspace. He then said something about looking forward to the next 400, though he could have been saying something about looking forward to 400g of my Linguine Truffle Miranda.

Full disclosure, this is a Nigella Lawson recipe with minimal – emphasis on minimal – tweaks, but even the domestic goddess herself has said that she enjoys seeing how people adapt the recipes to suit their tastes. And it isn’t like I’m slumming her as recipe 392 or something – this is a milestone, dammit!
While Nige’s is a little more delicate, I go for an aged parmesan that smells like your feet and shoes died six months ago and have been rotting in tropical heat and an extremely generous lug of truffle oil, meaning the pasta punches you in the mouth in the best way possible.
Happy Tonys / thanks for reading / enjoy!

Linguine Truffle Miranda
Serves: 4.
Ingredients
500g linguine
4 eggs
¼ cup double cream
¼ cup grated aged parmesan, plus more to serve
2 tbsp white truffle oil, or to taste
60g unsalted butter
salt and pepper, to taste
Method
Place a big old pot of salted water over high heat and bring to the boil. Once bubbling like a revolution, add the linguine and cook as per packet instructions.
While the paste is cooking, combine the eggs, double cream, parmesan and truffle oil in a jug, and whisk to combine.
When the pasta is good to go, drain it in a colander, reserving a cup of the boiling liquid. Place the butter in the pan with about a quarter of a cup of the aforementioned – or abovementioned if you’re a moron trying to sound smart while defending yourself in legal proceedings – cooking liquid. Add the pasta, stir and then add the creamy liquid, still stirring, to combine.
Place the pasta over low and heat and cook stirring for a minute or so. Remove, serve, cover in more old-foot-smelling parmesan and devour, ok?
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