Raspberry Charlotte!

 

I freely admit that I was a little nervous about making this incredibly gorgeous Raspberry Charlotte as a suffix to our dinner that accompanied a reading of Clare Booth Luce's classic play, The Women. This distinctly female "no boys allowed" creation was read mostly by us boys. Hilarity ensued as we tackled all 22 roles. Bowls of smokehouse almonds and cocktails got us started. Befitting the glamour of another era, I served a watercress salad with Annie's Shiitake & Sesame vinaigrette and buttered Parker House rolls, all of which went quickly. Classic London Broil (a few slabs shown here) served as the main before our entrancing dessert.

Raspberry Charlotte is a delicate confection consisting of lots of whipped meringue that at any moment just may surrender itself to the food gods and keel over, at least so I thought. I made it the day before as it has to sit, refrigerated overnight, to relax. My charlotte was a total success and boy, did I feel proud, having executed it properly. A Kitchen-Aid mixer is essential to avoid so much exhausting hand-whisking to form the stiff peaks for the cake! And homemade whipped cream! We did not have eau-de-vie de poire as the recipe suggests but used instead kirsch (the cherry version) that we did have on hand for further flavor.

Here, the 9 cups of frozen raspberries are duly dosed with 3/4 cup sugar before filling the cake. Above is the finished result, drizzled with the berry puree.



To the table! Pearls and a gossipy tea set ripe for conversation!

A view of the Raspberry Charlotte pillage! Isn't that a brilliant color?

Another glimpse of the table as our evening settled in.

Soundtrack: Noel Coward, The British Bands; Flapper Favourites, Music from the 1920's; Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day

Crepes Corbie

When Corbie was eight years old, she used to hang around the smoke-filled green room in the theater wing of my college, where her mother taught students about the world of musical comedy. I suppose we baby sat Corbie in a way, so naturally we all tortured this precocious, tousled-haired little girl. She recently turned 30 and now I find myself friends with a successful, slyly beautiful, talented young woman. To celebrate in our way, Baby and I made her dinner headlining our own creation, flaming Crepes Corbie. Think of a savory Suzette, with lobster (we are both from New England, of course) with vanilla chive sauce, brown butter, pearls of salmon roe and of course, Cognac.

I set a reasonable table for the three of us during the day with these outrageous tall stems that dangled sprouted pods from the top as a centerpiece, and other autumnal branches that had delicate orange and yellow flowers,  reflective of our petite pumpkins and ghoulish gourds.

Baby made the stacks of crepes ahead of time as well. To make the thin pancakes, a basic recipe can be found here. And always throw the first one out for luck!

About an hour or so before our guest of honor arrived, we started to saute the lobster shells (from the reserved lobster meat) in butter and wilt the leeks, carrots, celery and tarragon chiffonade in prep for the vanilla chive lobster sauce. This requires heavy cream and I forgot to buy it, but you know what? You forge on (and don't tell anybody your dish didn't come out the way you wanted it to be). The end result was still pretty tasty, just thinner, and well, less fattening too.

We made the scallion mashed potatoes ahead of time too, and quickly microwaved our bag of haricots verts with almonds from FreshDirect, as we reheated the potatoes later and topped them with lump crab before serving.

When we all sat down to dinner (after a few glasses of rose, which turned into a few more) we enjoyed a wonderful salad composed of mesclun greens, Napa cabbage, Mandarin orange segments and toasted brioche croutons tossed with a silky shiitake and sesame dressing, courtesy of Annie's, which frankly could be served with a straw.

The Crepes Corbie were a delight to make, as we rolled up three at a time in a buttery saute pan, with the lobster tucked inside. Then we added about a quarter cup of Cognac, removed from the heat and lit the whole thing on fire! A note: before the flames rapidly die down, the dish should be presented theatrically to the table (at a distance) and served once the incendiary crepes are quite out.

We had yellow cupcakes with vanilla frosting for dessert. After all, whatever our age, I hope we are still children at heart.

Happy Birthday, dear Corbie!