Jerry Traunfeld's Crab and Lemon Thyme Soufflé (5/24)

The last time Jerry Traunfeld's name found its way onto this here blog was when I tried my hand at his roast chicken last year. I left that experience with very good thoughts on his approach to cooking, so I dutifully snooped around the Internet for a Jerry Traunfeld recipe that I could use in this year's soufflé project. The result? A recipe for a crab and lemon thyme soufflé with a parsley-tarragon butter sauce. Sounded amazing. And it was amazing.

The concept was intimidating, but everything was actually relatively simple. First, melt the butter and whisk in the flour.

Add the milk and salt and whisk until the mixture boils and thickens.

Remove from heat, whisk in the egg yolks, and then add the minced lemon thyme.

Transfer the soufflé base to another bowl. I added some lemon zest because I just felt like I wasn't getting enough lemon from the lemon thyme alone. Place plastic wrap over the surface of the base and set aside.

While the base cools to room temperature, butter the soufflé dishes and coat with bread crumbs.

About 45 minutes before serving, preheat the oven to 375 degrees and start whipping the egg whites.

As the egg whites slowly start to stiffen enough to form free-standing peaks, fold the crab meat into the base and season with salt and pepper.

Gently fold the egg whites into the soufflé base.

Fill a roasting pan or similarly oven-proof container with water so that the ramekins are half-immersed. Toss the entire apparatus into the oven for at least 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, make the parsley-tarragon butter sauce. Start by placing the parsley and tarragon into a blender.

Combine the lemon juice, minced shallots, and salt into a saucepan until the mixture boils and reduces by half.

Then, at low heat, slowly whisk in the butter. Keep the sauce on low heat.

About 5 minutes before serving, pour the shallot-wine-butter sauce into the blender with the parsley and tarragon.

Blend until smooth. The sauce should be an alarmingly bright and vibrant green. Season with more salt to taste.

At this point, the soufflés should be done: golden-brown, puffy, and fragrant.

The water contraption can be difficult to move around, so be careful. Thankfully, these guys held up for a relatively long time without deflating.

Create a hole in the center of each soufflé with your spoon and pour in a generous amount of the sauce.

The end result was complex in flavor, comforting in temperature, and crisp and fluffy in texture. My first spoonful released a plume of addictive smells: the familiar smell of a freshly baked croissant, an unimposing cloud of lemon and parsley, and brief hints of licorice and wine.

The smell of crab only reached my nose as I was about to take my first bite. I hesitated for a short second before placing the spoonful into my mouth. A thin and giving shell, a satisfying but not overpowering flavor of egg, strong herbal notes, and generous chunks of toothsome buttery crab meat. The faint flavor of wine married the various acidic and basic ingredients into a cohesive, addictive soufflé.

This was probably the best savory soufflé I've had in a while--at home or in a restaurant.

The entire soufflé crawled its way into my stomach in a matter of seconds, like a small army of sprinting, outrageously delicious sand crabs, leaving momentary imprints on my tongue.

I know I'm already insanely behind on this project, but I just might have to make this one again before the year ends.

Until next time, Jerry Traunfeld.

Cook's Illustrated's Lemon Soufflé (4/24)

Oh, yes. This project is still happening. Whether you like it or not. Whether I'm supremely soufflucked (word credit: Steph C.) or not.

This here soufflé, Cook's Illustrated's Lemon Soufflé (available for free online, courtesy of Leite's Culinaria), happened in March. Holy cannoli, is it seriously August? Eegad. Regardless of the month, and how long ago I made this soufflé, I distinctly remember how much I loved making and eating this soufflé. Courtesy of a lengthy list of notes I jotted down at the time.

First step, preheat the oven to 350 degrees and position the rack to somewhere around the middle of the oven. I don't have a position that's exactly in the middle, so I went with the slightly lower one.

Next, whip up those egg whites with the cream of tartar, and slowly add the sugar and salt, until stiff, but not dry, peaks form. Transfer the whites to another bowl.

Throw the egg yolks and remaining sugar into the mixing bowl and whip until thick, like a custard. Whip for another 30 seconds after tossing in the lemon juice, lemon zest, and flour.

Next, the hard part: folding. Fold in the egg whites with the egg yolk mixture one third at a time. Remember to avoid over-folding.

And then you're pretty much home free. Gently move the mixture into a 10-inch skillet after buttering up the skillet (make sure that it's ovenproof and that you use an oven mitt!). Keep the mixture cooking in there until the edges barely start to bubble and set.

Transfer the skillet to the oven for around 10 minutes. Don't open the oven door for at least the first 7 minutes. This is essential in ensuring that the soufflé rises and has structure. For me, it took about 20 minutes for the mixture to set in the middle (i.e., to stop jiggling around) and for the top to turn golden-brown. The soufflé didn't even come close to falling after a good 5 minutes, so don't fret if you take a little time to serve this guy up.

The end product was beautiful--reminiscent of a lemon meringue pie, but better, and with less (well, maybe just slightly less) guilt. I passed on the dusting of sugar at the end because I thought it would take away from the pure presentation of defined peaks and flowing valleys.

The soufflé was like a cloud, outlined with toasted textures and infused with floating hints of lemon. It was nowhere near being too sweet or too eggy. This family-style approach is probably the perfect way to incorporate a soufflé into a dinner for a decent number of people. The presentation is just as striking as that of individual ramekin soufflés and it serves at least six people, if not eight, per skillet. The fact that this all came out of a plain ole 10-inch skillet still amazes me.

Some Orange Creamsicle ice cream from Full Tilt and mint doesn't hurt either. A perfect playground of hot and cold, creamy and refreshing, and fluffy and bright.

On deck, after one last Chicago post, my favorite taco joint in Los Angeles and a crabby soufflé.

Donna Hay's Spinach and Cheddar Soufflé (3/24)

Soufflé number three came from my friend's first cookbook: Donna Hay's Modern Classics Book 1.  She said it's a great go-to soufflé for dinner parties or a quick dinner or snack, mainly because she's always found them to rise and taste amazing.  So she lent me her cookbook for the sake of my 24 Soufflés project.  The picture in the book of the soufflé looked pretty darn tasty, and for my second savory soufflé I wanted to incorporate a vegetable of some sort, so this was perfect.

The recipe serves four people and begins with placing 1 bunch (~14 ounces) of spinach in boiling water for a short minute.

Next, drain and squeeze all excess liquid from the spinach.

Chop the spinach.  This picture kind of looks like the second picture in my Korean Seasoned Spinach recipe, eh?  Well, maybe not.  I guess the only thing in common is that they're both pictures of blanched spinach.

Anyways, get to melting 2 ounces of butter in a saucepan over medium heat.

Add 4 tablespoons of all-purpose flour until the roux becomes a smooth paste.

Add 3 cups of milk and stir until the sauce boils and thickens.

Then remove the saucepan from the heat and stir in the spinach, 4 egg yolks, 1/2 cup of grated aged cheddar cheese, sea salt, and black pepper.

At this point, the mixture should smell like a delicious cream of spinach soup.  Take a few tastes to make sure that you get the right amount of salt and pepper.  Leave the mixture to cool to room temperature.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Farenheit and grease up your 8-ounce ramekins, or similar containers, with butter.  Sprinkle breadcrumbs to coat the insides of the containers and shake out any excess crumbs.  I was looking to do five servings, so I decided to do one in a baking ring, like I did with the Classic Hot Chocolate Melting Soufflé.

Next, beat 4 egg whites with an electric mixer until soft peaks form.

Fold one-third through the spinach mixture and then the remaining two-thirds.

Spoon the mixture into the prepared containers and place on a baking tray for easy removal.  Bake these suckers for a mere 15 minutes, or until they're puffed and golden.  Your kitchen should start smelling like a French patisserie at some point.

Obviously, the better picture of these guys is up top.  These deflated in about one minute, which makes me think that I either over-folded the egg whites with the base, or I didn't leave them in the oven long enough.  I continue to learn...

Regardless of the deflated appearance of the soufflé, the flavor was incredible.  Super cheesy and gooey, creamy like something between a quiche and a creamy soup, and delicious chunks of spinach.  I also added some Maldon sea salt flakes, which added a nice, crunchy, salty kick to those first few bites.

I think it's pretty apparent why my friend finds this to be a great and reliable go-to soufflé recipe.  Maybe twenty minutes to prep as early in the day as you want, another twenty to leave the mixture out to reach room temperature, and fifteen minutes in the oven.  Easy steps, great results.  Thanks, Hana!

Apparently you can also substitute 10 ounces of broccoli instead of 14 ounces of spinach leaves for a different take on the same recipe.  Cream of broccoli in soufflé form, anyone?  Yes, please.

Roy Yamaguchi's Classic Melting Hot Chocolate Soufflé (2/24)

Three posts in three days?  Holy butter I'm on a roll.  Today, the long-awaited soufflé number two, conducted by a famous recipe from the mastermind behind the huge Hawaiian fusion empire, Roy's.  I decided to make this soufflé because I wanted to do a classic chocolate soufflé towards the beginning of this endeavor, and I have fond memories of eating this delicious dessert at the original Roy's on Oahu last September.

The end result is stunning and seems complicated, but the process was actually surprisingly simple.

First things first.  Mix your two dry ingredients together in a bowl: one cup of sugar, and I used three tablespoons of whole wheat pastry flour instead of cornstarch.

In a separate bowl, whisk together eight egg yolks and the whites of four eggs.

Weigh out eight ounces of your favorite dark chocolate.  I just used some of those standard Ghiradelli bittersweet chocolate chips that most supermarkets have in their baking sections.

Melt one-and-a-half sticks of butter in a saucepan and bring the butter to a simmer.

Once the butter simmers, throw in those eight ounces of chocolate.  The aroma of dark chocolate and butter is always intoxicating.

Stir gently, but constantly, to melt the chocolate and incorporate the butter evenly.

Just keep stirring, just keep stirring, what do you do, you stir, stir, stir.  Go watch Finding Nemo if that went completely over your head.

Once the chocolate is smooth and silky and the butter is nicely incorporated, wait for the mixture to bubble at the edges before continuing.

Slowly incorporate and mix the sugar and whole wheat pastry flour mixture into the saucepan.  Continue to mix thoroughly as you add the sugar and flour to avoid lumps of flour.  But even if you have lumps, use your whisk to break them apart.

The chocolate should have a slight pull and some graininess from the sugar.

Add the whisked egg whites and egg yolk a little bit at a time while slowly incorporating the eggs into the chocolate mixture.

Continue to slowly mix until the sugar melts and the mixture takes on a smooth, silky texture and appearance.  Refrigerate overnight, or at least four hours.  The coolness of the base mixture is important to ensure the dramatic melting effect when you cut into this soufflé.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  Meanwhile, line a baking sheet with parchment paper and cut up some rectangles of parchment paper to line the insides of four metal soufflé/cake rings.  Use a room-temperature chunk of butter to aggressively butter any point of contact that the soufflé base will have with the parchment paper on the bottom and sides.

The measurements of the parchment paper don't have to be exact.  In the end, you'll be stripping each soufflé of its metal and paper anyhow.

Fill two-thirds of each prepared ring with the chocolate base.  Don't worry if things don't look neat.  The soufflé will either grow into the messy sides or will easily chip off the main part of the soufflé.  Throw these in the oven and set a timer for thirty minutes.

Remove the baking sheet from the oven, use tongs to grab the sides of each ring, and slide a metal spatula under the ring to transfer each soufflé to their respective plates.  I used a metal pastry scraper because I only have a cruddy, chipped, bent-out-of-shape plastic spatula.  Gently (very gently!) lift the metal ring up off of the soufflé and slowly remove any parchment paper that doesn't lift with the metal ring.

I opted to serve this soufflé with some delicious berries, a dollop of Full Tilt's vanilla bean ice cream, and a sprig of mint.

A brittle, slightly crisp exterior opened up to a spongy cake and a lava-like flood of dark chocolate bliss.  Sweet, bright berries richened the flavor profile and the cool, creamy ice cream wrapped itself in the velvety dark chocolate.  I don't usually like chocolate desserts, but this was to die for.  I might have burned my tongue a few times from impatience.

Actually, instead of attempting to describe just how delicious this soufflé was, I would like to quote a description by New Zealand Natural of their own ice cream that I find easily applicable to the experience in my mouth when I ate this soufflé:

"Stick in a spoon. Now taste. Oh yes...pure, [warm] and very, very good. Actually, it's way better than just good. Impossibly delicious, unbelievably fresh, stunning. Truth be told, nature doesn't get any smoother, any purer, any creamier than this - but let's not go overboard. Enough. Stop reading. Please enjoy."

Done and done.