When asked about my
“desert island” dessert, it takes me about a nanosecond to respond, and I
invariably reply that it’d be Œufs
à la neige, otherwise known as “Snow Eggs.” It’s one of those
classic French desserts that, even though I’m not French, I have a deep
fondness – and a sense of nostalgia – for. When I order it in restaurants I
am usually disappointed. Often it’s made with pre-packaged crème anglaise
(yes, that’s a thing,
or powdered) and bottled caramel sauce, neither of which appeals to me.
I want the real thing:
Homemade custard sauce, served ice-cold, topped with fluffy mounds of
meringue, finished with spoonfuls of almost-burnt caramel, enough to give it
a bit of an edge, but not enough to be actually burned.
I don’t make Œufs à la
neige nearly enough, which is probably a good idea since I tend to dip into
the bowl of meringues, lopping off mouthfuls of meringue along with
vanilla-scented custard sauce and a bit of caramel.
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