Today was the day I made my first attempt at a souffle. For the past year I’ve had a strong urge to give this French classic a try. It’s one of those dishes that has a reputation for being temperamental but in recent months I have read lots of encouraging little blurbs about the souffle in magazines and newspaper articles: Don’t be afraid of the souffle. The souffle is your friend. Embrace your inner souffle. Or something to that effect.
Yesterday Mr. F and I went on a Sunday afternoon adventure to Berkelouw Books in Paddington. Among their impressive used book selection I found a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking for $12.50. It’s slightly defective in that the book is bound upside down, but I kind of love that about it. Since my small cookbook library is still in boxes in New York, I am looking to build my Australian collection from scratch. This seemed like a perfect addition.
I immediately turned to the souffle pages and began mentally preparing for my self-appointed task. I may have overloaded on souffle information, via Google and Julia Child – but when I finally went into the kitchen with this little recipe below, I came out with a risen souffle – so I would say it was a success. I fully plan on embracing the souffle in the future, in many of its wonderful forms.
