After a string of rather somber reflections, I thought it was time for a bit of levity on my little blog. I give you: the soufflé. What could be lighter than this fluffy, puffy, eggy creation? It is infused with air, yet not insubstantial. Soufflé and I are in the process of defining our relationship. Our first encounter was a chance meeting at a French restaurant on the edge of Georgetown after an exhausting day of window-shopping, walking, and reacquainting with old friends and older haunts. Though this neighborhood was my home for four years, and the restaurant in question was, apparently, a longstanding icon on the landscape, its Michelin-rated presence somehow escaped my attention until that July evening.
Even then, wistful dreams of a someday trip to Paris were floating through my mind as I sampled a delicious dinner of duck… or should I say, magret de canard. I was exquisitely observant of my fullness, carefully preserving some room for dessert. How could I not, in such a place, with its delicacies described in such romantic language on its menu de desserts? Mousse au chocolat, gâteaux au chocolat, tarte au pommes à la mode. I knew my own tastes well enough to predict the disappointment I would feel with crème brûlée (I just don’t get the appeal) or a tartelette aux fruits (why eat fruit when there’s cake?) But soufflé? I raised a dubious eyebrow. Could it possibly be as delicious as flourless chocolate cake or a gooey, delicious mess of melted ice cream mingling with hot apple pastry? My friend was the first to order. She was the only one of the pair of us with any actual experience dining on French food in France, and she ordered, you guessed it, le soufflé. I queried the waitress, expressing my doubts, only to receive a raving recommendation in favor of the incredible, edible, whipped, baked, and dessertified egg. I ordered the chocolate variation, bien entendu.
It took some time for the chef to prepare our wiggling, jiggling, towering soufflés. Yet, after patient waiting, we watched them process out triumphantly from the kitchen, steaming and plump in their cute, little ramekins. With the dishes set before us, we each prodded at our respective puffs inquisitively, before scooping up that first, curious bite. Soft, a bit goopy, and still radiating heat, it met my mouth with a surprising solidity for something of such inherent fluff. I was charmed and delighted, and I ate every, last bite.
As far as I was concerned, this experiment with soufflé was no more than a fanciful fling. That was July, though, before credit-card-secured travel arrangements catapulted Paris from the wouldn’t-it-be-nice category of whimsy into the date-is-approaching category of the proximate. With the arrival of winter came tangible planning and Kelly’s progressive dining challenges. I previously mentioned my attachment to breakfast. That meal was precisely where she most pressed me, and while le soufflé might not be a typical sight at le buffet du petit déjeuner authentique, my wandering eye fixed upon it among the breakfast offerings at my neighborhood Panera. There, I discovered the delectable delights of the ham and cheese soufflé. It was not quite as fluffy or airy as the dessert I enjoyed in Georgetown, but I expected as much of a pastry served off of a warming plate at a chain casual food restaurant in middle America. Despite its conventional origins, it was every bit as delicious. Perhaps even more so! The melted cheesiness of the egg mixture and the flaky crispiness of the pastry met perfectly in a harmony of flavor and texture. I couldn’t wait for my next breakfast out so that I might try another!
In the final analysis, chocolate cake is still my favorite dessert, and the apple tart à la mode would win any taste test against after-dinner eggs (even chocolatey ones). I still treasure my morning bowl of oatmeal and that protected, meditative, quiet time that happens when I linger over the day’s first cup of tea. However, when it comes to a savory meal, le soufflé doesn’t lay down on the job. We have some more getting acquainted to do, Soufflé and I. And I’m looking forward to doing it in the city of light… and bistros, and boulangeries, and cafes, and pâtisseries…
I think I will need some more practice!