Hope Springs Eternal

Spring's solace: cooking and some crying at the turn of the season

When spring rolls around I often find myself crying outside the confines of my apartment. Yes, it’s allergies, and yes, it’s my sunscreen melting into my eyes, but it’s also that ephemeral, breathtaking spring beauty soothing the soul amidst all the awfulness.

Seeing the first cherry blossoms on March 10th stopped me in my tracks. I was almost home from a run in the park. The endorphins were coursing through me and the sight of the first flower made me cry a bit. It was a much-needed reminder that warmer and longer days are coming.

And then there was the 15th of March: I was heading home from the grocery store listening to the news–feeling pretty damn demoralized–when I spotted crocuses emerging from around the leaves and the trash in a sidewalk flowerbed. My despondence shifted to sentimentality and I cried again. The promise for renewal and growth that spring brings is a salve for the soul.

Then there was the time I saw one of my favorite flowers, daffodils, at the farmers market, and brought a bunch home with me. I knew they would cheer me up every morning while having my coffee and checking emails, but they also inspired me to get creative in the kitchen for absolutely no reason at all, my personal form of self-care.

Last month I wrote about the île flottante at Le Veau D’or. Despite it being one of Théos favorite desserts, I had never made it for him before. Mainly because I hadn't tried one I loved – Le Veau D’or changed this. Îles flottantes are made of soft cooked meringue (you want it to be remarkably marshmallow-y and bouncy), topped with a drizzle of hard caramel and sometimes slivered almonds, and served in a pool of vanilla anglaise.

So, inspired by the daffodils from the farmers market and my dessert at Le Veau D’or, I created the following concoction: daffodil meringues with a caramel center/stamen, floating in a springy egg-yolk tinged anglaise.

I started by making the anglaise. I used this recipe which is luxuriously yolkier than the one I usually make (I never have spare yolks so I usually use less of them, but this recipe has convinced me to indulge in the more is more mindset). I then made my trusty meringue recipe and followed the baking method in this recipe. When it came to piping the flower, I found this video to be very helpful. By no means did my end result end up looking like a daffodil, but I’m giving myself some grace considering it was my first time ever piping a flower. While the meringue baked, I made the hard caramel center. It was then time to plate it, only 90 minutes after I had started the whole thing. It was delicious. And though it didn’t make me cry, it most certainly put a smile on my face.