Soufflé

Each summer, any peaches that were not eaten, jellied, or canned were frozen. We would peel and slice the peaches and pack them into sealable plastic freezer bags. Most often, they later appeared as a topping for Meme’s Pound Cake (page 266). For a child, peach season was purgatory—it was so very hot—but I am sure Meme is smiling in heaven with satisfaction when she sees me practicing now what she taught me then. This soufflé uses the meringue method to rise, and the flavor is delicate and light. Frozen peaches may be used when peaches are not in season; simply defrost them before using.

This soufflé uses the pastry-cream method as the base. Pastry cream (crème pâtissière) is a very stable custard thickened with flour or cornstarch, and it provides an excellent foundation for dessert soufflés. Vanilla is the bean of a variety of tropical orchid. Use the whole pod if possible to allow the tiny seeds to flavor and speckle the dish. As a substitution, use 1 tablespoon of pure vanilla extract.

I prefer using fresh sweet potatoes over the canned variety. However, not everyone feels this way. Around the fall holidays, towering mountains of canned yams are constructed in grocery stores throughout the South. Truth is, the contents are not yams at all. What is often labeled and sold as yams are actually sweet potatoes. Botanically speaking, yams are tubers and a member of the lily family; sweet potatoes are the root of a member of the morning glory family. Yams originated in Africa, whereas sweet potatoes are New World plants. There are many varieties of both that differ in size, taste, shape, and color. When I doubted Mama about the amount of butter and sugar in this dish for a mere four sweet potatoes, she laughed and said, “Y’all always like it this way.” Feel free to reduce the amount of sugar and butter in the sweet potato base should your conscience (or waistline) see fit.

Southerners have a bad habit of calling any dish with whipped egg white in it a soufflé—hence all those recipes for cheese grits soufflé and sweet potato soufflé. Believe me, there is way too much butter in both of those concoctions for them to ever rise, especially the latter, which is typically topped with marshmallows. This classic French soufflé is the real thing, and uses the béchamel method (see page 67). It is very important to use low-moisture cheese when making soufflés. Gruyère and Parmigiano-Reggiano are perfect because they are very flavorful, but dry and not overly fatty. Rich, fatty cheeses like blue or Brie are too heavy and your soufflé won’t rise as tall.

The first time I cooked a soufflé for my teacher, culinary authority and soufflé master Anne Willan, I opened the oven door to discover a lopsided, exploding disaster. Determined to learn, I cooked a soufflé once a week for months with the leftover bits of cheese from the cheeseboard. It was brutal, but I finally mastered the soufflé. That said, cast your fears aside: adapted from one of Anne’s recipes, this soufflé is the absolute perfect recipe for beginners because it demonstrates how easy soufflés are to make and to manipulate. Even if everything does go wrong, no one will know, as the soufflés are hidden under a glorious blanket of rich creamy sauce and melted cheese.

This is a great accompaniment to almost every recipe in this book because it offers a sweet counterpart to most of the spicy and tangy flavors found in other recipes. And because the ingredients needed are found in most pantries, the batter can be whipped up at a moment’s time and left to bake unattended.

I don’t think I have a bright future as a food stylist. For my first book, Michael, the photographer, insisted that I make and style all the food, even though I had no experience food styling. When it came time to shoot soufflés, I panicked and asked a real stylist for tips on how to keep them aloft while the camera clicked away. He suggested adding yeast to them, which sounded like it might work, so I gave it a try. But when I opened the oven door to pull out the first batch, they’d risen way high and arched over, looking like custardy Slinkys. So I went back to making soufflés a few at a time the way I knew best—without yeast—and ran them from the oven to the set to be photographed. I breathed a sigh of relief each time the photographer was able to capture a few shots before the soufflés’ inevitable descent. As soon as they started falling, we dove in and quickly polished them off before the next take. Later, when we looked at the proofs, we noticed my face clearly reflected in the spoon resting alongside the soufflés, which was pretty amusing—and completely unprofessional. Although my future as a stylist was in question, no one in the studio doubted my ability to make fantastic, if not long-lasting, soufflés.

Sweet, creamy mashed banana pulp is an ideal soufflé base, but if you think bananas are just too humble to be turned into an elegant dessert worthy of serving to guests, try these simple soufflés spruced up with some warm chocolate sauce passed alongside. Be sure the bananas that you use are really ripe—the skins of yellow bananas (as opposed to red ones that are less common) should be covered with black speckles and their texture should be soft.

These light, lean soufflés get their lively flavor from the intensity of readily available dried apricots, so this dessert offers the added bonus that it can be made all year. It’s imperative to use the highly flavorful dried apricots from California rather than imported varieties, which are bland and uninspiring. You won’t be disappointed.

I think there are two types of people in this world: the lemon people and the chocolate people. This recipe is for the lemon people. But if you want to try to please both, you could add a scant 1/2 cup white chocolate chips to the soufflé base when folding in the egg whites.

Soufflés bring to mind fancy French restaurants, special occasions, and loads of calories. Why wait for a special occasion when you can whip up these incredibly light and delicate soufflés at home and save tons of calories? The Grand Marnier sauce is a must. For a richer sauce, you can use a half cup of evaporated skim milk and an equal amount of heavy cream.

Looking for a seriously over-the-top chocolate dessert that is very low fat with an unbelievably rich texture and intense chocolate flavor? Who isn’t? The cool crème anglaise served over warm, creamy soufflé is a total treat.

The other day, at a French brasserie across the street from our offices in New York, I ordered their single soufflé served with a green salad. It was a perfect lunch, and I went away wondering why I didn’t make soufflés anymore. It’s not only a good way to use up some of the bits of cheeses you may have around, as well as other leftovers that need reincarnation, but it’s lovely to behold and scrumptious to eat. But to make it for one? I was sure it could be done, so I purchased myself a one-person, fluted soufflé dish, 2 3/4 inches high and 4 inches in diameter, and proved that it could. My recipe for one is based on the eight pages of careful instructions that Julia Child devoted to making the perfect soufflé in Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Cacao nibs give the flavor of chocolate without added sweetness, and they’re a great side texture to this airy soufflé.

We love the indulgence of individual soufflés straight out of the oven. These are the perfect winter dessert; the spicy gingerbread flavors permeate every delicate bite. You can top them with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream and enjoy the play of hot and cold, spicy and sweet. Or you can pour on a little hard sauce or crème anglaise or even eat them plain. If you love gingerbread, you will be very happy with these light, airy soufflés.

This is a recipe for a classic omelet soufflé. It’s a simple yet decadent preparation that shows off the beauty of an egg foam on the plate and the palate. Perfect for breakfast, it also makes a satisfying evening meal when paired with a green salad and some crusty bread.

The original Soufflé Rothschild, created for James Rothschild by Antonin Carême, was a baked soufflé embellished with gold leaf. Since then, there have been all kinds of “Rothschild” soufflés, salads, and other dishes— the name is used to denote extravagance or richness. This frozen soufflé Rothschild was conceived by the famous pastry chef Gaston Le Nôtre, for a grand dinner at the home of one of the Rothschilds. It was served to me at a dinner party in Paris, and is one of the most delicious desserts I have ever tasted. Neither an ice cream nor a sorbet, it is technically a bavaroise glacée, a frozen parfait based on eggs and cream. The best part of this recipe is that it is quite quick to make. Just watch— your guests will sneak back for seconds and thirds!

When I ate lunch at the elaborate Hôtel Daniel, located between the Champs-Élysées and the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, I felt as though I were transported to a salon in Proust’s Paris. I met the young chef, Denis Fetisson, who brought out an array of dishes. Among them was this wonderful Roquefort soufflé, which Denis serves to vegetarians and to his kosher clientele. It is easy and elegant and makes a wonderful meal when served with a large salad.

Cheese for dessert is very European and a nice change from an overly sweet indulgence. This savory dessert puffs up so high it’s gorgeous; make sure folks are around when you take it out of the oven. An after-dinner experience.

Great for holidays. Even good as a dessert.