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I made a soufflé this weekend. It wasn’t
that difficult. I always thought soufflés were supposed to
be some pinnacle of culinary achievement, a little archaic perhaps,
but definitely best left to those educated at the Cordon Bleu. They
were for special occasions – delicate, fragile, and fleeting
– and it seemed pure hubris to think I could ever make one
myself.
But really, if you have the right tools (it’s
all in the whisk) soufflés are a breeze. I saw Audrey Hepburn
make one for Humphrey Bogart out of nothing more than eggs, milk
and crackers in Sabrina. But Hollywood over-simplification
aside, soufflés really are made of only a few simple ingredients:
milk, butter, eggs, cheese, flour. The crucial moment comes with
the folding in of the beaten egg whites. Egg whites are the “breath”
that is literally “soufflé,” the miracle of kitchen
science that keeps yolks and cheese from returning to their naturally
heavy and viscous state. I folded the egg whites as gently and carefully
as I could, but was still afraid that when I opened the oven door,
the result would match my crestfallen mood. Forty-five minutes later,
at the appointed time, a wondrous thing happened – my soufflé
had risen at least an inch and a half above the edge of the pan!
Backed by 25-plus years of experience, the soufflés
at Café Jacqueline are a bit more confident. They are served
in classic round white casseroles, perfectly poofy and crusted a
dark, chocolatey-brown. As I watched soufflés being delivered
to the tables around us, I thought every one must have been chocolate.
But all savory soufflés are browned just this side of burnt,
which I imagine makes for the airiest center. And the center is
indeed light, and creamy and soft and rich to boot. It’s a
bit like eating baby food – comforting and requiring little
effort to chew – something like an excellent bread pudding,
but more refined and infinitely smoother. We ordered two savory
soufflés (each serves 2-4 people): one with leek and chestnut
and a slightly more unusual tomato and cilantro, and one sweet (strawberry)
for dessert. Some of us couldn’t tell the difference between
the savories at first, but on closer tasting were able to distinguish
the richer, earthier flavor of the chestnuts from the peppier, lighter
taste of the tomatoes and cilantro. We could have done with slightly
more variety, I think, but subtlety seemed to be the theme of the
evening, from the smoothness of the soufflés, to the ease
with which we passed our three-hour meal.
For obvious reasons, soufflés are best served
piping hot and freshly inflated, and all of Jacqueline’s soufflés
are made to order. She prepares every soufflé herself, which
takes at least 45 minutes, and means that we spent most of our time
waiting and chatting. Thankfully, Michelle, Anke and Oliver are
all scintillating conversationalists and the time between courses
passed quickly and effortlessly. I was also pleasantly diverted
by several trips to the restroom, which required a walk through
the one-woman kitchen, past the round-faced Jacqueline, and the
largest bowl of eggs I have ever seen, at least an armful in diameter.
Any lingering doubts I may have had about the wait,
or about the amount of money we were spending ($30-40 dollars a
soufflé) simply dissolved once the strawberry soufflé
arrived. Flavored ever so subtly with Grand Marnier, topped with
fresh strawberries and dusted with powdered sugar, it was nothing
short of pure, sweetened air. It didn’t melt in the mouth,
it floated away.
Such perfection is better left to the masters. I was
too timid in baking my own blue cheese and corn soufflé,
and it never achieved that dusky chocolate-brown finish. The first
time I removed it, nervously, from the oven, it was still liquid
inside, and I had to return it, nicked by the knife and somewhat
deflated, in hopes of salvaging the molten center. Although I’m
sure I violated every article of soufflé protocol, the end
result was still light and tasty and even made a decent leftover.
Soufflé forgave. It didn’t demand perfection. Despite
its wounds, it rose, fluffy and reassuring.
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