You know that menu circulating on Twitter from the Warner Bros. Studio Cafe in 1941? I went straight to desserts. The slim selection is in keeping with the bodily demands of Hollywood.
Poached prunes for me, with a heap of cultured cream the colour of okra flowers.
I can order dinner backwards if the dessert menu is offered upfront. I won't start with the last course, but I like having it in mind. I can wait, too. When I'm confident of the pastry talent, it's another pleasure.
More gratitude on the way to sixty.
Held up my middle finger to diet culture in January and baked a couple of fantastically moist, earthy cakes. For myself.
A Greek Walnut Cake (Karidopita) in the photo that had breadcrumbs in the batter and is soaked in brandy syrup.
Made Gill Meller's Orange-Coriander Almond Cake. Shards of toasted coriander shells in the glaze looking like a seed head exploded nearby. A three-star life is having a slice after a bowl of homemade soup.
My Levi's are getting tight. Hips over thigh gap is my new motto.
The first time I had molten chocolate cake, it was made by Jean-Georges Vongerichten in 1991. The lacquer quenelle of vanilla ice cream snugged against it melting to a puddle. Like me. Ecstatic.
My first year at the Stratford Chefs School. A Valrhona chocolate virgin. Royalty in the dining room that evening, too — Marcella and Victor Hazan.
The culinary equivalent of being at Woodstock or Glastonbury.
I was a French apprentice, a generalist trained to be a chef-owner. I know my way around pastry. Possessing that skill is something I’m proud of.
My yardstick is baba au rhum, the yeasty pudding drenched in syrup and liquor. There are two that set the bar. One at Bouchon Abel in Lyon and the other at Edulis in Toronto. Tobey Nemeth serving crème Chantilly with a grace most of us will never possess.
I wrote this in 2021 about the tarte Tatin at Frenchette in New York City. "I can't look at that dimly lit picture without gasping a little."
Don't make me eat dessert alone.
Don’t fill me to bursting beforehand.
Rules my favourite people follow.
Something seductive to finish. Two songs from the same era.
Madonna's body of work is solid gold. I hope she sings and creates to her last breath.
The rhythm in this version of Prince's Cream. A perfect song.
"You're filthy cute and baby you know it"
© DEBORAH REID, 2023
© Deborah Reid, 2021 - 2023. All Rights Reserved.