Ghost of Christmas Past Keeps Ghost of Christmas Present Waiting
A modern muddle as one tries to remember how to restart holiday festivities.
By 2019, with years and years of experience under my apron, preparing for a party of 35 to 45 guests posed few difficulties. There were set deadlines for grocery shopping and decorating the house. Magazines and cookbooks that contained the recipe for each dish were stacked in the cooking order on the counter. Several had already been made and stored in our cold cellar or crowded the refrigerator’s freezer. A pretty party dress hung on the back of the door, all clean and pressed, with satin tiny-heeled shoes to match nearby. Friday morning, 8 a.m., I pulled back my hair, tucked a towel in the the apron’s belt, brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and charged up a brisk playlist. And off I went, bringing all that planning to fruition so that on Saturday at 6 p.m. we calmly opened the front door, knowing the house and table were ready to greet our guests.
Nothing of the sort is happening now. It doesn’t matter that there will be an eighth of the people here—and most are my immediate family—in attendance. Several grocery runs and online orders have not diminished the number of ingredients I keep forgetting. Recipes are scattered across the dining room table. The pretty party dress and fancy shoes no longer fit. Nothing is made, not even cookies. The house is barely decorated. And I am starting to feel unwell—throat scratchy and bone-scraping tired.
These three long years have undone so much, but it cannot include holiday parties! Rational decisions must be made, and so I just now sat myself down for a good talk that led to the realization there is an upside to these three long years. How many of our small band will be horrified that there are fewer dishes or some (horrified!) were store bought? Who will be snarky if my dress is a tad tight and I'm wearing my well-broken-in summer flats? The dishes will be as fine as they can be, and I’ll tie my Christmas themed apron around the slight bulging middle and rummage through the sewing drawer for something to sparkle up my shoes. Fewer decorations mean less risk of knocking them over, and, as a wise friend once told me, that dim lights, plump pillows, and an overflow of wine and such, will taare of dusty corners. My scratchy throat will turn out to be only allergies and giving in to the urge to nap will take care of the bone scraping. There will be fun music on the stereo. All will be of good cheer because once more we are all together.
And now, a recipe for one of my most favorite and easy party desserts—chocolate fondant with candied oranges. It was featured in the March/April 1986 issue of the much mourned The Pleasure of Cooking, a magazine founded by Carl G. Sontheimer, the inventor of the Cuisinart to teach users about the wonderful possibilities of a machine no one had ever seen before. All the great cooks and authors of the time appeared in the magazine and while their recipes were often on the high art end of the era’s food trends they were successfully approachable thanks to the Cuisinart. I spoke to Carl when I was writing Pie Every Day, telling him truthfully that I learned how to cook thanks to his magazine because, along with the recipes, there was always technical lessons and history. In return he sent me a full collection. Every single issue is now heavily stained and marked with aged post-it notes. The trove is listed in my will as a particularly valuable treasure for my sons.
The fondant is a good example of the magazine's worth. It is from Bernard Louiseau, the legendary chef at La Côte d'Or. The recipe comes together in about 15 minutes and the results are fail-proof. Considering the subject of this story, you will not be surprised that I haven’t gotten to it yet. The faded photograph below is reproduced from the magazine. I’m also including the very helpful photos that accompanied the instructions.
Chocolate Fondant With Candied Oranges and Mint Sauce
2 quarts water 4 small navel oranges 4 cups sugar 1 3/4 cups heavy cream 1 pound high-quality bittersweet chocolate Mint sauce (recipe follows) Mint strips, for garnish Bring 1 quart of the water to the boil and blanch the oranges for 5 minutes. Bring the remaining 1 quart of water and the sugar slowly to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Pierce the skin of the oranges all over with a thin skewer. Lower them into the sugar syrup with a slotted spoon and simmer, uncovered, for 3 hours, turning occasionally. Remove with a slotted spoon to a rack and cool completely. Trim off the bottom and tops of the oranges. (They will be soft so handle them gently.) While the oranges are cooling, prepare the chocolate mixture. Bring the cream slowly to the simmer. Break the chocolate into 1-inch pieces. Pulse the chocolate with the metal blade of a food processor 4 times, then process continuously until the chocolate is finely chopped, about 1 minute. Pour the hot cream through the feed tube with the motor running and process until the chocolate is completely melted, about 10 seconds. Scrape down the work bowl as necessary.
Oil a 10 1/4 by 3 5/8 by 2 5/8-inch mold. Cut a piece of parchment paper 22 by 11 inches and fold it into thirds from the long side. Line the length of the mold with the paper allowing an overhang to use to lift the fondant out of the mold. Pour about 1 1/3 cups of the chocolate mixture and chill the mold until the chocolate is firm, about 1 hour. Arrange the oranges end to end, down the center of the mold and pour in the remaining chocolate. Chill overnight. To serve the fondant, run a sharp knife around the edge of the mold to loosen it. Lift it out with the ends of the parchment paper and slide it onto a chilled platter. Cut carefully into slices with a serrated knife. Serve with Mint Sauce, garnish with mint strips. Makes 20 1/2-inch servings. Mint Sauce 20 fresh mint leaves 2 cups milk 1/2 cup cup sugar 4 large egg yolks Process the mint with the metal blade until coarsely chopped, about 10 seconds. Stir the mint into the milk in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Remove from the heat and let steep for 5 minutes. Strain the milk and discard the mint. Process the sugar and egg yolks with the metal blade for 30 seconds. With the motor running, pour half the milk through the feed tube. Return the mixture to the remaining milk in the saucepan and cook over low heat, whisking constantly, until the mixture coats a spoon, about 15 minutes. Place the pan in a large bowl of ice water and stir to cool the sauce. Cover the surface with a piece of plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to serve. Makes about 2 cups.
What a relief that it is just allergies. Everyone will survive with fewer decorations and dishes. Enjoy the conviviality of the day, Pat. Tiny heels be gone!
If the guests have to test then we do, too, I said to the husband! We'll all survie and I'll do my usual and be barefoot 20 minutes in! Still wish you were here to join in