Sunday, 18 January 2009


Dinner parties, god parents' style. I don't have any of these, but I suppose Ian deserves them, since he only has one uncle, no aunts, and one living grandparent. Any extra family adds a bit of something, I suppose, and when Ian's godparents invited us to dinner before Christmas, they offered quite a friendly spread. Steaks and salmon, roasted root vegetables of every color, and for dessert sticky toffee pudding and fruit salad. All yummy, but the most spectacular part of the meal was housed in a little porcelain gravy pot sitting quietly next to the fruit. Foamy and slightly yellow, I had no idea what it was, but followed the other's lead by pouring it all over my fruit. Creamy, a little sweet, and a little tangy, it was the perfect complement to winter fruits that had yet to find their full sweetness.

So I tried to make it. The woman, Marie, had made hers with hard cider. I tried white wine, which was what we had on hand. A googled procedure yeilded a frothy mix of eggs and sugar and wine that I beat over a double boiler for ten minutes with a whisk. A sore wrist later, the results were lovely poured over fresh raspberries, but not quite what I was looking for. The flavor was too strong for my taste, and the alcohol seemed to overwhelm the fruit. I'm convinced that cider is the way to go, and will update when I find the perfect recipe.

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