Sojourn with the Swans of Chantilly

It was an evening of eclairs that began with a creme chantilly cocktail, and ended with a flock of swans in my foyer.

I realize that I just painted a picture for you that sounds something like the movie The Hangover so let me start again.

Three words: Pate a Choux, or Choux-Pastry. The name derives from the pastry's baked appearance: when cooked the pastry surface resembles the head of a cabbage (or at least some ancient french chef believed so). Regardless, choux-pastry is one of the cornerstones of French Patisserie, and can weigh about a stone when filled with coffee Creme Patissiere and covered with chocolate fondant.



Choux Pastry is an incredibly satisfying thing to make if you are a baker, for it doubles in volume in a warm oven in under 30 minutes. Considering the near 48hrs it takes to make brioche, this is remarkably swift and satiating. Once cooked, Choux Pastry can also be successfully frozen and defrosted to then be filled and served. Hence the array of fresh eclairs, Paris brests, religieuses, and salambos found in any pastry shop each day.

It was quite seamless in the kitchen tonight. I wouldn't quite say 'ballerina stage' (the term used to describe the beauty of an organized and skilled chef who works about the kitchen as though his every move were part of a choreographed dance), but some of us have definitely found a rhythm.

I have made some personal progress in the patisserie. Today my eclairs (pictured above) won Best In Show, or in class at least, and my family of swans received a resounding honorable mention.


Family Cygnes

So sailing home at half past 10, glowing with the success of my good grade, and delighting in the prospect of a late dinner of prize-winning dessert, I missed the door step and proceeded to set my swans free to fly all the way across the front hall floor.

"Those babies can really move across the sky..."
Image not available.

As for them? At least you knew them at their best... As for me? Seems I need to work on my footwork in and out of the kitchen.



In Memoriam

Darcy Jones