Sipping Warm Custards

Saturday, November 27, 2010 at 3:42pm

Thinking back on good memories with my mom, I remember learning from her, that everyone has a signature dish. Something that they make exceptionally well and that they enjoy making. Almost like a part of their soul that comes out into the food to be shared with others and enjoyed. For my mom, those dishes were pot roast and pecan pie. She could make the most succulent and flavorful pot roast that I've ever had. I remember learning all about searing the outsides of the meat. The sizzle and smell of something warm and hearty rising up from the pot. She would make a special mixture of top secret ingredients to deglaze the pot with and then simmer slowly for hours until done. This was prime time winter food. I remember her making it first -for us. I loved that about my mom. She could nourish and treasure herself and myself in a way that most people don't do for themselves or small groups (aka. a single mother and her child). So many people (myself included these days) seem to only pull out the stops for company. *Others* that they deem worthy of the good china. But my mom, (weather she served it on the good china or not) would take time with her dishes. She made food that fed the heart and soul as well as the tummy.

She encouraged me to find my own dishes. Signature treats that I loved and felt confident making. I tried out so many things along the way to my current favorite: Crème Brûlée. I remember one winter in particular. We were living in Sonoma. A large field stretched out in front of our house, and off to the side of it as well. We were close enough to the town square to walk. In the summers I would meet my mom there on Tuesdays, for the farmers market. I remember in those days we used to stock up on this pungent fresh garlic dip that was made by a local Greek man. It was one of his families specialties. Now that I've had more experience cooking, I believe it was somewhat similar to Skordalia. if not Skordalia it's self! As a child though, I thought that it was made out of pure garlic -nothing else! The taste was at first so astringent, so severe that it puckered up the mouth and made you wonder if you could go through with swallowing. My mom loved the stuff! It was her whole-hearted enthusiasm for it that got me past the initial palate shock long enough to develop a taste for it myself.

Living in a foodie haven like Sonoma, set the perfect backdrop to finding my own signature dish. I was constantly learning something new. Trying some dish that I had never had before. This particular winter though was very cold and rainy. Days were short, and we seemed to live in the dark. The steel-blue skies of the last ebbing moments of twilight seemed a constant that winter. The light in the darkness that winter was our kitchen. I remember it as being a perfect compliment to those steel-blue skies. Warm, golden and amber; the exact opposite on the color wheel. I don't remember how I had gotten it into my head, or why I knew the flavor so well, but I had decided that I *must* learn how to make the perfect Zabaione. I don't even know how many times I made it that winter. Over and over again. With berries. Without. Biscotti accompaniment. Or naked and raw. Warm and provocative sliding smoothly down your gullet.
Many years later, this experience of eating warm fresh custard would play out again with Crème Brûlée. It's the kind of experience that you can only have if you are a cook (or a dear friend in the kitchen). You can't get this at a restaurant. In fact, some would say that you shouldn't do this at all. Some of the most devilishly wonderful memories I have are of sipping fresh warm Crème Brûlée custards as they came out of the oven. It is an imperfect dish. This is why you will never find it on a restaurant menu. You are not supposed to even touch the custards at this point. They are fully cooked, but still soft and hot. They haven't had time to rest and set up yet. And there is no crisp sugar crust on the top yet. There are so many calories in them and they go down so smoothly. If taste-buds could have orgasms this was it! I remember La Suprema and I polishing off an entire round of these tasties fresh from their steam bath. So bad. So naughty. But so good! I highly recommend the experience -at least once in your life.

Elizabeth Diane Medina MAY ALL THOSE NICE MEMORIES, COMFORT YOU PRINCESS.
VIVIAN (GRHS) WAS RIGHT, MOST OF US GIVE OUR BEST WHEN MAKING DISHES ON DIFFERENT TIMES.
LOTS OF LOVE FROM US PRINCESS :-)

November 28, 2010 at 6:14am ·  ·  1 person