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Looking for the Land of Milk and Honey Milk to me is synonymous with innocence. Until lately that is. Now that we all live in an era of fat phobias, milk- particularly the whole, creamy, luscious kind needs all the help it can get to reclaim it innocence. The
level of hostility directed at milk is new. Consider the hope and joy
implied in the term, land of milk and honey, or the purity inherent in
the idea of mother’s milk. When milk is used as an adjective it is
always associated with things feminine. The opposite of a milk fed young
woman is the corn fed young man, a bias consistent with cattle. Tender
veal is milk fed, while beef is raised on corn. Pasteurization
is the true villain, rendering my milk as purity metaphor obsolete. We
are suspicious of homogenization wherever it appears, from poetry to
housing. And now the low fat Mafia is set to move in for the kill. But
all things come around in due time. Compared with heavy whipping cream,
good old-fashioned milk seems lithe and virtuous. This attitude no doubt
accounts for the re-emergence of milk desserts – those milk based
puddings and frozen confections that follow on the heels of the recent
craze for crème brulee and crème caramel. I
grew up drinking milk three times a day. And that was whole milk, there
wasn’t any other kind. It was good for you and every mother laid down
the law. Eating desserts made of sweetened milk today makes my tongue
feel as if it’s coated with satin. In
hot climates, milk is used to make sweetened dumplings or fresh cheese
balls. When sweltering heat and poverty are combined, milk is a luxury.
In India it is cooked to avoid spoiling and so there’s a prodigious
repertoire of dairy-based desserts. In
Mediterranean regions, only tiny details divide a flan from custard, a
crème caramel from panna cotta. Each confection is made of milk,
thickened with eggs or gelatin or heat. Milk is the canvas; the
seasoning and thickening agents are the paint. The
resulting confection will feel Rubenesque in the mouth and will linger
as sentimentally as an almost touched love. Even without the addition of
sugar, milk has an illusory sweetness, the soft weight on the tongue is
pleasant, not a burden or a challenge. Just a feeling. In
fact, the smooth, unblemished consistency of a milk dessert harks back
to another time, when indulgence was still a joy not a life-threatening
event. Panna
Cotta Serves
6 ¾
cup confectioners sugar 2
cups heavy cream 1
cup whole milk 2
teaspoons unflavoured gelatin 1)
In a saucepan, combine the sugar, cream and milk and place over a
medium heat. Cook, stirring until the mixture just begins to bubble (Do
not let it boil). Remove from the heat and sprinkle in a little gelatin
at a time, continuing to stir. Stir for 5 minutes, then empty the pan
into a bowl. Let stand and stir occasionally until the mixture reaches
room temperature, about 20 minutes. 2)
Divide the mixture between six 6 ounce remekins and refrigerate
for at least six hours or overnight. When ready to serve, bring ½ inch
of water to a simmer in a small skillet. Using a thin bladed knife,
loosen the custard from the sides of the remekins. Put the remekins
bottom side down in the skill for 2 seconds. Remove the remekins from
the water and invert them onto plates, shaking to unmold the custard.
Spoon berry sauce around the custards and serve. |
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