Cherry Clafoutis Flop: Even Foodies Fail

THERE ARE two problems with being a so-called food expert. One, all of your friends and acquaintances become shy when serving food to you, as if expecting some sort of harsh judgment of their cooking (I’m nice, really). And two, your own dishes will, at least occasionally, flop publicly, leaving you to hide your foodie face in shame.

Public flops can be avoided most of the time simply by serving only tried and true recipes to guests. Apparently, I must like the humiliation because I frequently try new recipes out on other people. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don’t.

For example, a few months back I hosted a paella party having never attempted the dish before. It turned out alright, but I noted several changes to make in future paella efforts.

I served a fantastic pulled pork to my family during our vacation on the Oregon Coast recently. Sweet and spicy, it was a big hit, though there was a terribly crusted mess in the roasting pan that I have since avoided by using a foil lining.

We were invited to two Independence Day celebrations this year. Like any Fourth of July picnic, the first, hosted by Ben and Kami Crawford on Finn Hill, involved great quantities of people and food. I had peaches ripening on the counter and decided to whip up my favorite summer dessert -- cinnamon spiced peach crisp. This is a no-fail recipe that I picked up from a PCC newsletter a couple of years ago.

As the crisp bubbled away in the oven, I spied a large bowl of cherries glistening garnet at the back of my counter. The first bag of cherries disappeared the day before, pits competitively spit by my kids over the porch railing. So, with our cherry craving currently satisfied, I thought I could use the second bag for a baking project.

See, there was a recipe that I had wanted to try for a long time. In fact, it is the only recipe I’ve ever tried out of David Tanis’ cookbook “Platter of Figs.” Tanis has worked as co-chef at Alice Waters’ legendary Chez Panisse restaurant in Berkeley, CA, since the 1980’s. The beautiful matte photographs in his cookbook promise tasty but rustic dishes.

It was the photo of the cherry clafoutis (pronounced cluh-foo-tee) that caught my attention -- dark cherry orbs suspended like a fruit mosaic in a golden custard and served in the cast iron skillet used for baking it. I’ve got a thing for cast iron skillets. There is something so substantial about them, lending an emotionally hearty quality to the food cooked within.

MY DAUGHTER and I pitted two pounds of cherries, using a chopstick to pop out the stones. We whisked the custard batter together, but as I was about to pour it over the cherries, I mentally estimated that it would overflow the 10-inch skillet. Fortunately, I own two 10-inch skillets. It was easy enough to divide the cherries and batter between the two.

As they baked, I read that this dish is best served at room temperature. Perfect – I could take the dessert out of the oven and straight to the party. By the time we finished eating lunch, the cherry clafoutis would be just right. And it was.

However, the second pan of clafoutis remained on my counter during the warm afternoon awaiting its turn to star as the end of a meal that evening at our second party. Unfortunately, the heat of the day worked on the custard all afternoon until it was a sad, separated, slippery mess.

I knew it wasn’t going to be good, but I tried to follow Julia Child’s advice and serve it without excuse. Not only was I putting my food expert name on the line by serving subpar clafoutis, but I was serving it to a trained pastry chef, my friend Angela Puri. Oh, the humiliation I felt as I sprayed canned whipped cream over each serving hoping to mask the graininess of the custard!

I've learned my lesson. Now I know that “room temperature” doesn’t mean “leave it out in a warm room all day” when applied to custard desserts. And now you know that even some of the best cooks fail from time to time.

Cherry Clafoutis (adapted to fit one skillet)

Butter and flour for greasing and dusting the skillet

1 lb. sweet cherries, pitted

¼ c. blanched almonds (optional)

3 large eggs

1 c. packed brown sugar

1 TB. flour

¾ c. whole milk

¼ tsp. almond extract

splash of kirsch (optional)

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Butter and flour a 10-inch cast iron skillet or gratin dish. Arrange the pitted cherries on the bottom and scatter the almonds onto the cherries.

Beat the eggs with the sugar and the flour. When the mixture is smooth, whisk in the milk. Add the almond extract and the kirsch (if using). Pour the batter over the fruit.

Bake for 40 minutes, or until the top is browned and a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean. Let it cool and then dust with powdered sugar.

Serve at room temperature – which doesn’t mean to set it on the counter in a warm room all day!