{"id":1594,"date":"2006-11-03T18:22:00","date_gmt":"2006-11-03T18:22:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2006\/11\/03\/a-popover-worth-the-wait"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:00","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:00","slug":"a-popover-worth-the-wait","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2006\/11\/a-popover-worth-the-wait\/","title":{"rendered":"A popover worth the wait"},"content":{"rendered":"
So, have you ever had one of those days when you do or learn or eat something so fantastic that you can\u2019t wait to tell the whole world, and then by some cruel twist of fate, the whole world seems to conspire to shut you up? First, let\u2019s say, you get a wretched sore throat, followed by a snotty, now-stuffed, now-dribbly nose. And then the hard drive of your computer up and dies, just like that, with nary a warning or whimper. And then you feel sorry for yourself and slouch around for a few days, sans computer, sneezing all over your old, beloved gray sweatshirt. Ever had that happen? Yeah? Me too. It\u2019s been a bad week. The last truly good thing I remember was the popover I ate on Sunday morning – and oh, what<\/em> a popover<\/strong> it was. I would have told you about it a few days ago, were it not for, well, all this. Please pardon my delay, and my cold, and my computer.<\/p>\n What I\u2019ve been meaning to tell you is this: popovers, I\u2019ve decided, are my ideal breakfast food. Don\u2019t get me wrong \u2013 I do love my usual plain yogurt and granola, but I\u2019m talking ideal<\/em> here. Popovers are about as close as you can get to eating clouds without leaving the kitchen.<\/p>\n An American adaptation of Britain\u2019s Yorkshire pudding<\/a>, a popover<\/a> is a light, hollow roll made from an eggy batter, so named because it \u201cpops\u201d up and out of its pan as it bakes. Popovers enter the oven as mere puddles of batter but bake up, an hour or so later, into billowing, buttery, ethereal poufs<\/strong>. Lighter but no less special than a croissant or cinnamon roll, they boast golden, crisp crusts and a soft, custardy inner lining, perfect for a smear of jam or honey \u2013 or for eating plain, in big, greedy bites.<\/p>\n Some people might serve them as part of a big spread, but to me, what makes popovers so lovely is that they fill the belly just enough, but never too much. Last Sunday, Brandon and I sat down at the breakfast table with a basket of these, two pots of jam, and orange juice, and, between bites and slurps, agreed that anything more would have spoiled the charm. A couple of popovers, steamy and butter-scented<\/strong>, is all a girl needs on the average morning. In cases of severe hunger, a bowl of tart yogurt might be nice alongside, but for those of us who like to leave room for lunch, it\u2019s entirely optional. And should you have a popover or two left over \u2013 lucky you! \u2013 come noontime, they rewarm nicely in a moderate oven and go swimmingly with a bowl of soup.<\/p>\n Speaking of which, a cauldron of chicken noodle sounds pretty good right now \u2013 both for soothing my throat and for submerging my entire body. That may be in order for the weekend. But one thing is certain: Sunday morning will find us again in front of the oven, waiting for our popovers to pouf and pop, signaling the close of a very sub-par week and the start of a new one.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n P.S. A big, huge, sloppy thank you to Brandon for letting me borrow his beautiful new MacBook Pro, and for spending hours<\/span> on the phone with Dell, and for making me a pi\u00f1a colada in a fancy glass. I owe him something very nice, as soon as I stop snorting and sneezing. Butter Popovers<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n
<\/a> <\/p>\n<\/p>\n
P.P.S. And a warm thank you to dear mav<\/a>, who gave me the beautiful linen dish towel pictured above.
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Adapted from The Bread Bible<\/em><\/a>, by Rose Levy Beranbaum<\/p>\n