The Things You Do For Love

"I know," he said, "I'll not only copy out the fancy dessert recipe in French, I'll make it and then everyone in the class can have some.". This would have been a great idea, if we'd started a little early. But there we were in the middle of the grocery store at nine o'clock at night, trying to find all kinds of ingredients I never keep in my cupboard, and stocking up on other items that I'd run out of.
Raspberry compote? What's that? Vanilla Bean Paste? Never heard of it. Well, we need milk anyways, and raspberries come in handy for the ever-popular shakes that everyone loves in this house...
After we got home, and truly read the instructions, we realized the custard was supposed to cool for 1 1/2 hours. We fast-tracked it in the freezer. I had no idea how to bake puff pastry. More fake and bake. Perhaps we should have re-labelled the recipe to "Fake-it-til-you-make-it French Pastry"


The puff pastry was supposed to thaw for two hours. We didn't have two hours. I was fading. We fast tracked it in the microwave. (If you try this at home, kids, take it out after 1 minute or you'll have puff pastry soup.) Good job we had more than one cookie sheet because the instructions were to put one sheet over top of the other. Luckily, I already had the parchment paper handy.


Around 11:00 p.m. we were folding the custard into the whipping cream. Then we spread it onto the puff pastry, added the raspberries, and topped it with more cream mixture. We put the raspberry compote on. The compote turned out to be more of a jam, but we pretended not to notice. After the compulsory taste test, (which judging by his face, was satisfactory) we set out the rest of the ingredients to take to school so he could be a 'chef' and demonstrate eet to de class in de morning. Now it was 11:29 p.m. and he still had to make his poster to show the teacher the process. I let him take care of this, and I went to bed.

Comments

Anonymous said…
I remember asking permission to type my essay on the landing at the house at Nipissing Junction. Clack clack clack, til 0400. But I got it done. And handed it in WELL DONE. And I survived.

But what about the parents who heard this ALL night...did they despair?

I guess a parent GROWS PAST the growing pains of their children....

xoxox

C
May 14, 2009 at 11:34 AM
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