My wacky mother and her wacky family and, in fact, a huge
percentage of her wacky generation and culture have a belief that ice cream is
digestive. It was common that after a
meal she would ask, “A little digestive ice cream?” If the meal was huge, as it invariably was,
the conversation would go like this:
“Would you like some ice cream?”
“No, I can’t, thank you.
I’m too full.”
“But it’s a digestive!”
It probably helped that she loved ice cream so much. She may have loved other sweets, but she was
fine without the them; on the other hand, the house was never without ice
cream. So one Christmas, when ma’s
friend Lily came to stay with us and brought the dessert, a “frozen Christmas
pudding” composed of chocolate ice cream, dried fruit and spices, she was in
hog heaven. As she was the following
year, when she decided that for dessert she would make a frozen sweet called
Parfait Fantastique, from the redoubtable "La Petrona".
It was round about that time that two important things
happened: I stopped merely being my
mother’s kitchen hand and actually started cooking stuff, and my best friend,
Brian, started celebrating Christmas with us.
Why are these two things important, and how are they
related? Because thanks to Brian, that
very first dessert I made has been THE SAME DESSERT I’VE MADE EVERY YEAR
SINCE. This has been going on SINCE
1984. Even though I HATE THE BLOODY
THING. Even though I TRIED MAKING
SOMETHING ELSE ONE YEAR (“Yes, that was very nice,” Brian said, patting my
shoulder, “now can we go back to parfait next Christmas?”). Even though I am allowed to make as many
other desserts as I like, but I CANNOT LEAVE OUT THE PARFAIT. Even though my sister hosts Christmas every
other year I still get to bring dessert, AND IT IS PARFAIT.
Why the fuss? All
the recipe is, as you can see, is something that crossed ma’s parfait and
Lily’s frozen pudding, and I can’t stand the sight of it. Make no mistake, though: it is actually quite good. Brian, pretending to be Donkey in Shrek has,
since Shrek came out, greeted the appearance of the Christmas dessert with,
“Parfait’s gotta be the most delicious thing on the whole damned planet!” and I
have to admit: it is delicious, festive,
and light enough to follow the heaviest Christmas meal (and help digest it,
thank you ma).
So last week, I made the yearly parfait. Grudgingly, as is the yearly custom. But my grumbling and whingeing and whining
fell flat. See – Brian is not here. Brian moved to England last year, and where
he is people love him and wine-and-dine him as is right and good because it is
nothing less than he deserves, but I’m over here having a freakin’ existential
crisis because of this stupid parfait.
Because my grumbling is nothing without his badgering me and cajoling
me. Because he won’t be here to look at
me after having a mouthful, hunch his shoulders and mouth out, “YUM!” Because he’s not here to have a third helping
and the rest of my own helping after I’ve had the obligatory, grudging
spoonful. Because he may conceivably
hate the dessert as much as I do but may have been wise and clever enough to
realise long ago that this is one of our games.
Because he bugs me into submission and there’s no one in this world that
I enjoy giving in to quite as much. Because
he’s not here to remind us that parfait is the most delicious thing on the
whole damned planet. Because the
tradition of the parfait is precisely the same age as the tradition of
Brian-for-Christmas, and having one without the other is just not the
same. Because truth be told, come
Christmas, I don’t want to do without either.
PARFAIT NOËL
You can make the parfait up to a month before
serving. Keep well wrapped, however, in layers of both plastic wrap and foil. And don’t be
tempted to halve the recipe: despite my
personal misgivings, I can assure you that it will get eaten!
(16-24 servings)
Ingredients:
1/3 cup slivered almonds, toasted
1/3 cup red and green glacé cherries
1/3 cup chopped (candied) peel
2/3 cup raisins (or raisins and sultanas, half and half)
1/3 cup currants
1 tsp. mixed spice
1/4 cup rum, or apple or orange juice (if using fruit
juice, you can also add 2 tsp. rum essence if you like)
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
3 tbsp. cocoa
8 eggs
350g. sugar
4 cups cream
1 tbsp. gelatine
1 cup milk
2 tsp. vanilla essence
Red and green glacé cherries, extra
What you do:
1. Combine
almonds, cherries, peel, raisins, currants, mixed spice, and rum or juice in a
medium bowl. Cover with plastic wrap,
and allow to macerate and swell overnight.
(If you're pressed for time, you can place these in a microwave
container, cover, and cook on HIGH for 5 min.).
The next day, mix in cinnamon, nutmeg, and cocoa. Set aside.
2. With an
electric mixer, beat eggs and sugar until very thick and pale. Add vanilla.
In a separate bowl, beat cream until soft peaks form.
3. Scald milk, and
sprinkle over the gelatine. Whisk with a
fork to dissolve. Add gelatine mixture
to eggs and beat well. Fold in
cream. Divide mixture in two, one rather
bigger than the other. Fold fruit
mixture into the smaller quantity.
4. Place extra
cherries in a decorative pattern in the bottom of a two large loaf or bundt
pans, or three medium pans. Carefully
spoon in fruit parfait mixture, and place in freezer about 15 min., until
thick. Carefully spoon in vanilla
parfait mixture. Cover with plastic
wrap, place in freezer, and freeze a minimum of six hours or overnight. Allow to soften in refrigerator one hour
before serving. Unmould and slice to
serve.
Oh YUM! Surely Tony will make it for Brian in your steed? It looks amazing :)
ReplyDeleteOh, yeah, it would be great if he did. Maybe if Brian badgers him as much as he badgers me…
ReplyDelete:D
Looks wonderful! Love the Shrek reference! LOL
ReplyDelete~Melissa
www.ChinDeep.com
fantastic Yumbo, wonderful blogging too xxx Dor
ReplyDeleteThanks, Dor!
ReplyDeleteBugger, you made me cry!
ReplyDeleteRemember to hide some in the freezer and I'll be there to collect in Feb. Perhaps we can Skype from Austria to Australia on Christmas Eve?
Both!
Delete