Olympic Mushrooms
I like my puddings and made a dish recently after discovering some rhubarb at the local deli. Rhubarb and custard, a classic combination that has even evolved into cartoons and sweets, catapulting me back to my childhood.
I heated the rhubarb, added muscovado sugar, raisins and the embers of a forgotten sweet Austrian wine which I found at the back of the fridge. The wine was a sophisticated blend of Chardonnay and Welschriesling grapes.. and now rhubarb. It was thankfully still drinkable due to the prolonged shelf life of a sweet wine after opening.
While this was softening I separated three egg yokes and made a custard. What remained was a bowl of nervous egg whites, waiting to get more familiar with my sink.
Egg white has its uses as a fining agent in mainly red wine, removing solids and proteins, clearing out the chaff. On this occasion I turned the tables and messed with the egg white's own proteins, attempting meringues. I whipped them up, disrupting their delicate protein chains, changing the structure. This 'denaturation' causes air to be trapped resulting in a nice thick foam, into which I folded some sugar. Using Delia Smith as a guide (although her mystique and kudos has been slightly diminished in my eye after too much attention around her extra-culinary activities) I cooked them in a 'cooling' oven.
An hour or so later I removed the meringues. They were undercooked, more like a Tunnock's Tea Cake than the armadillo I desired. Impatient for the crunchy sugar rush I decided to turn them upside down under a low grill heat to finish them off quickly.
I was distracted for a few minutes and returned to the kitchen to find it full of smoke. My meringues resembled a collection of Olympic torches, burning vigorously soon to be extinguished. Rather embarrassed I crawled under the smoke to the garden where I threw the flaming husks for the creatures of the night to feast on. After sorting out the smoke alarm I went to bed.
The next morning was crisp and dewy. Walking across the lawn I saw my discarded meringues. Incredibly they looked exactly like a collection of Portabella mushrooms with their black burnt underside and off-white tops. They were untouched in the night, not even tempting for a passing 'Dong with a Luminous Nose'.
I heated the rhubarb, added muscovado sugar, raisins and the embers of a forgotten sweet Austrian wine which I found at the back of the fridge. The wine was a sophisticated blend of Chardonnay and Welschriesling grapes.. and now rhubarb. It was thankfully still drinkable due to the prolonged shelf life of a sweet wine after opening.
While this was softening I separated three egg yokes and made a custard. What remained was a bowl of nervous egg whites, waiting to get more familiar with my sink.
Egg white has its uses as a fining agent in mainly red wine, removing solids and proteins, clearing out the chaff. On this occasion I turned the tables and messed with the egg white's own proteins, attempting meringues. I whipped them up, disrupting their delicate protein chains, changing the structure. This 'denaturation' causes air to be trapped resulting in a nice thick foam, into which I folded some sugar. Using Delia Smith as a guide (although her mystique and kudos has been slightly diminished in my eye after too much attention around her extra-culinary activities) I cooked them in a 'cooling' oven.
An hour or so later I removed the meringues. They were undercooked, more like a Tunnock's Tea Cake than the armadillo I desired. Impatient for the crunchy sugar rush I decided to turn them upside down under a low grill heat to finish them off quickly.
I was distracted for a few minutes and returned to the kitchen to find it full of smoke. My meringues resembled a collection of Olympic torches, burning vigorously soon to be extinguished. Rather embarrassed I crawled under the smoke to the garden where I threw the flaming husks for the creatures of the night to feast on. After sorting out the smoke alarm I went to bed.
The next morning was crisp and dewy. Walking across the lawn I saw my discarded meringues. Incredibly they looked exactly like a collection of Portabella mushrooms with their black burnt underside and off-white tops. They were untouched in the night, not even tempting for a passing 'Dong with a Luminous Nose'.
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