I am not a chef. My culinary education is haphazard, divided amongst learning from family and friends of varying skill levels, an occasional formal class, reading recipes, and plain old experimentation. Most times things tend to work out within an acceptable variance from expectations.
Saturday was not one of those days.
A pile of dishes in the sink. Not one, not two, but three last-minute runs to the store for supplies or store-bought replacements for what I had hoped to be homemade recipe components. An egg splattering on the floor. Throwing away more food in one day than I had done in an entire year at this apartment.
It all started with a cake.
Saturday was not one of those days.
A pile of dishes in the sink. Not one, not two, but three last-minute runs to the store for supplies or store-bought replacements for what I had hoped to be homemade recipe components. An egg splattering on the floor. Throwing away more food in one day than I had done in an entire year at this apartment.
It all started with a cake.
Charlotte Russe (image courtesy of chow.com)
Flipping through my copy of Auguste Escoffier's Le Guide Culinaire, looking for dessert inspiration for a French-themed dinner party, I came across the section on Charlottes. Escoffier lauded the cakes, and he provided recipes to make every single components. And when I looked up pictures online, oh, I was sold. They looked tasty enough, but what sold me was the bragging rights I would earn from serving something this gorgeous.
So I created recipes for the two major components (Bavarian cream and ladyfingers), chimeric mish-mashes from Escoffier's terse guidelines and more detailed versions gathered from le internet.
First came the ladyfingers. While the recipe (which I am skipping for now) yielded dozens of lovely, orange-blossom-scented wafters, they proved too thin and misshapen to line the outside of a structurally-sound Charlotte. This realization necessitated a trip to Cost Plus for store-bought ladyfingers (though I tried to atone for my sins by purchasing ones made in France).
Next, the Bavarian cream. This is when the egg-dropping, dish-piling part of this little disaster ensued. However I eventually ended up with something quite delicious, so it wasn't a total wash.
Finally, the Charlotte assembly. Oh, man.
I started by trying to make it as pictured above, with ladyfingers standing upright along the edge. This did not work. They kept collapsing, and a dipping in a sugar-cognac mixture left them dissolving in my hands. Realizing this was starting to resemble the base for a tiramisu, I opted to pour the Bavarian cream over the ladyfingers and add layers, to form a French tiramisu/trifle-like dish. Seemed like a great idea...until the ladyfingers began floating to the top of the cream. Letting loose a string of colorful expletives in the privacy of my own kitchen, I hastily grabbed a dish from the pantry and began filtering out the cookies, tossing them into the garbage disposal and draining the Bavarian cream into the dish. I succeeded, though the resulting dessert lacked the elegance I desired.
A final trip to Trader Joe's for some store-bought preserves, and I had the dessert you see above. All was not lost - it was a hit at the party, and held it's own against two tables of amazing desserts. It's a simple, refreshing dessert, just right for ending a heavy meal.
Bavarian Cream
Serves 10-12
2¼ cups milk
2 vanilla beans
2 packets unflavored gelatin
⅔ cup water
8 egg yolks
1 ¼ cups baking sugar
1 ¼ cups heavy whipping cream
¼ cup granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup fruit preserves of your choice (blueberry, raspberry, strawberry)
So I created recipes for the two major components (Bavarian cream and ladyfingers), chimeric mish-mashes from Escoffier's terse guidelines and more detailed versions gathered from le internet.
First came the ladyfingers. While the recipe (which I am skipping for now) yielded dozens of lovely, orange-blossom-scented wafters, they proved too thin and misshapen to line the outside of a structurally-sound Charlotte. This realization necessitated a trip to Cost Plus for store-bought ladyfingers (though I tried to atone for my sins by purchasing ones made in France).
Next, the Bavarian cream. This is when the egg-dropping, dish-piling part of this little disaster ensued. However I eventually ended up with something quite delicious, so it wasn't a total wash.
Finally, the Charlotte assembly. Oh, man.
I started by trying to make it as pictured above, with ladyfingers standing upright along the edge. This did not work. They kept collapsing, and a dipping in a sugar-cognac mixture left them dissolving in my hands. Realizing this was starting to resemble the base for a tiramisu, I opted to pour the Bavarian cream over the ladyfingers and add layers, to form a French tiramisu/trifle-like dish. Seemed like a great idea...until the ladyfingers began floating to the top of the cream. Letting loose a string of colorful expletives in the privacy of my own kitchen, I hastily grabbed a dish from the pantry and began filtering out the cookies, tossing them into the garbage disposal and draining the Bavarian cream into the dish. I succeeded, though the resulting dessert lacked the elegance I desired.
A final trip to Trader Joe's for some store-bought preserves, and I had the dessert you see above. All was not lost - it was a hit at the party, and held it's own against two tables of amazing desserts. It's a simple, refreshing dessert, just right for ending a heavy meal.
Bavarian Cream
Serves 10-12
2¼ cups milk
2 vanilla beans
2 packets unflavored gelatin
⅔ cup water
8 egg yolks
1 ¼ cups baking sugar
1 ¼ cups heavy whipping cream
¼ cup granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup fruit preserves of your choice (blueberry, raspberry, strawberry)
- Bring milk and vanilla beans to a boil. Once boiling, bring down to a low simmer.
- Soak gelatin in water (or a blend of water and cognac) for 10 minutes.
- Beat egg yolks and sugar in a glass bowl.
- Add milk to the egg and sugar mixture, straining to remove solids. Discard solids. Stir constantly.
- Place glass bowl over a simmering pot of water, forming a double boiler. Keep stirring until the mixture coats the back of a spoon (but does NOT boil), about 5-10 minutes.
- Remove from heat and add gelatin. Place bowl in an ice bath (a larger bowl filled with water and ice), stirring occasionally, until mixture comes to room temperature.
- While the custard is cooling, whip cream, sugar, and vanilla extract until soft peaks form.
- Once custard is cooled, fold in the whipped cream until the custard is smooth. Pour into serving dish and chill until set, about 4-5 hours.
- Once set, spoon the preserves on top to form fun patterns.
- Let sit in the fridge overnight and until serving.
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