{"id":1784,"date":"2005-01-10T03:03:00","date_gmt":"2005-01-10T03:03:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2005\/01\/10\/on-souffle-and-trepidation"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:33","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:33","slug":"on-souffle-and-trepidation","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/01\/on-souffle-and-trepidation\/","title":{"rendered":"On souffl\u00e9 and trepidation"},"content":{"rendered":"

In this world, there are plenty of things to be afraid of, but souffl\u00e9 is not one of them<\/strong>. We know all too well the horror of a natural disaster, the freak accident, the uncertainty of change, the fearful dwindling of the bank-account balance, the sleep lost to worries and wondering. For me, there\u2019s a special terror reserved for the blast of a tornado warning siren: evidently, my Great Plains youth still haunts me. But if there\u2019s one thing that won\u2019t keep me up at night, one thing that I can count on, it\u2019s souffl\u00e9.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
I ate my first souffl\u00e9 as a preteen, at Oklahoma City\u2019s swank but sedate Coach House Restaurant. It was an apricot souffl\u00e9, tall and trembling<\/strong>, served in a small ramekin. The waiter, deathly serious, plunged a silver spoon into its center and poured a thin stream of translucent apricot sauce into the chasm. I scooped up a spoonful: the souffl\u00e9 was airy, eggy, and sweet, with a thin crust of sugar where it met the ramekin\u2019s edge. Everything went quiet. I didn\u2019t speak until I\u2019d scraped up every bit from the ceramic dish and licked my spoon clean.<\/p>\n

But a dozen years would pass before I\u2019d try my hand at making one. After all, everyone knows that souffl\u00e9s are notoriously difficult. According to the word on the street, your souffl\u00e9 will be nothing more than a scrambled-egg discus<\/strong> if you: a) open the oven before it\u2019s finished baking; b) over-whip your egg whites, c) under-whip your egg whites; d) turn your back while it\u2019s baking; e) don\u2019t worry enough; or f) worry too much. It\u2019s terrifying. To draw on Allen Ginsberg\u2019s \u201cHowl,\u201d \u201cI saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by souffl\u00e9<\/strong>, starving \/ hysterical naked, \/ dragging themselves through the streets at dawn looking for a whisk\u2026.\u201d If I\u2019m going to sweat and twitch, it shouldn\u2019t be over dinner.<\/p>\n

But, dear reader, because there\u2019s nothing more luxurious and magical<\/strong> than a good souffl\u00e9, we can\u2019t let ourselves be beaten down by fear. We\u2019ve at least got to try. In this life of uncertainty, we\u2019d be wise to heed the words of another poet, William Stafford:*<\/p>\n

<\/strong>
Yes<\/strong><\/p>\n

It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.<\/p>\n

It could you know. That’s why we wake
and look out\u2014no guarantees
in this life.<\/p>\n

But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.<\/p>\n

Yes, some bonuses, like souffl\u00e9. Heartened by these words, one night in late 2003, I took my souffl\u00e9 dish down from the shelf. Little did I know it would be the opening of a new era. Armed with Julia Child\u2019s masterful The Way to Cook<\/a>, I was ready, and it was a simple matter of following instructions<\/strong>. From the b\u00e9chamel to the stiff peaks, it was straightforward, even easy(!). In a show of defiance to fear, I even drank a glass of wine while it baked. And when I pulled it from the oven, golden and soaring, I knew it was a sure thing<\/strong>. I brought it to the table and served it proudly, breaking the crust and listening with glee to the crackly hiss of a spoon through delicate webs of pillowy egg. It was both ethereally light and fantastically rich with cheese. A bonus indeed.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s not a second to waste. After all, it could happen any time: tornado, earthquake, Armageddon, souffl\u00e9.<\/p>\n

*From The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems<\/em> (Graywolf Press, 1998).<\/p>\n

Cheese Souffl\u00e9<\/strong>
Adapted from The Way to Cook<\/em>, by Julia Child<\/p>\n

Thank heavens for Julia.<\/p>\n

2 Tbs finely grated Parmigiano Reggiano, or other hard cheese
2 \u00bd Tbs unsalted butter, plus more for buttering dish
3 Tbs all-purpose flour
1 cup whole milk, hot
\u00bd tsp paprika
A pinch of nutmeg
\u00bd tsp salt
3 grinds of freshly ground pepper
4 egg yolks (from large eggs)
5 egg whites (from large eggs)
1 cup (3 \u00bd ounces) coarsely grated cheese, such as gruy\u00e8re or sharp cheddar<\/p>\n

Generously butter a 7 \u00bd- to 8-inch diameter souffl\u00e9 dish. Roll the grated Parmigiano Reggiano in the buttered baking dish to cover the bottom and side. Set the oven rack in the lower third of the oven, and preheat to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.<\/p>\n

To make the b\u00e9chamel:<\/em>
Over moderate heat, melt 2 \u00bd Tbs butter in a 2 \u00bd-quart saucepan; then blend in the flour with a wooden spoon to make a smooth but somewhat loose paste. Stir until the butter and flour foam together for two minutes without coloring to more than a buttery yellow. Remove from heat. When the bubbling stops, in a few seconds, pour in the hot milk all at once, whisking vigorously to blend. Place the saucepan over moderately high heat, whisking rather slowly, reaching all over the bottom and sides of the pan, until the sauce comes to the simmer. Simmer two to three minutes, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the sauce is very thick and coats a spoon nicely. Whisk in the seasonings, and remove from heat. Whisk the egg yolks into the hot sauce one by one, transfer sauce to a large bowl, and set it aside.<\/p>\n

To finish:
<\/em>In a clean bowl and with clean beaters, beat the egg whites to stiff shining peaks. Scoop a quarter of the egg whites into the bowl with the sauce, and stir together with a wooden spoon. Turn the rest of the egg whites on top; rapidly and delicately, fold them in with a rubber spatula, alternating scoops of the spatula with sprinkles of the coarsely grated cheese. Pour the batter into the prepared baking dish, and use your spatula to trace a circle in the top of the batter, just inside the rim of the dish. This will help the souffl\u00e9 to rise freely.<\/p>\n

Place the souffl\u00e9 in the oven, and turn the oven temperature down to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake about 25 to 30 minutes (without <\/em>opening the oven), until the souffl\u00e9 has puffed one to three inches over the rim of the baking dish and the top has browned nicely. Serve immediately, because yes, it will deflate within a few minutes. To serve without crushing it, use two serving spoons pointed down and back-to-back; plunge them into the crust and tear it apart.<\/p>\n

Serves four.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In this world, there are plenty of things to be afraid of, but souffl\u00e9 is not one of them. We know all too well the horror of a natural disaster, the freak accident, the uncertainty of change, the fearful dwindling of the bank-account balance, the sleep lost to worries and wondering. For me, there\u2019s a special terror reserved for the blast of a tornado warning siren: evidently, my Great Plains youth still haunts me. But if there\u2019s one thing that won\u2019t keep me up at night, one thing that I can count on, it\u2019s souffl\u00e9. I ate my first souffl\u00e9 as a preteen, at Oklahoma City\u2019s swank but sedate Coach House Restaurant. It was an apricot souffl\u00e9, tall and trembling,…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nOn souffl\u00e9 and trepidation | Orangette<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/01\/on-souffle-and-trepidation\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"On souffl\u00e9 and trepidation | Orangette\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"In this world, there are plenty of things to be afraid of, but souffl\u00e9 is not one of them. We know all too well the horror of a natural disaster, the freak accident, the uncertainty of change, the fearful dwindling of the bank-account balance, the sleep lost to worries and wondering. For me, there\u2019s a special terror reserved for the blast of a tornado warning siren: evidently, my Great Plains youth still haunts me. But if there\u2019s one thing that won\u2019t keep me up at night, one thing that I can count on, it\u2019s souffl\u00e9. I ate my first souffl\u00e9 as a preteen, at Oklahoma City\u2019s swank but sedate Coach House Restaurant. 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