Never schedule a photo shoot with your wife for the day after she disassembles and packs her Seven road bike for a trip. Not unless you want dessert sharing the frame with epidermal roadkill. A Photoshop alchemist might be able to redeem the damage, but my skills are more 4th-grade pick-a-card-any-card than digital wizard. If you catch a gouged finger–and there are ten of them in this post–or a bashed nail, you know why. But no matter–spring is here. Somewhere people are riding bicycles. Tufted titmice are peter-peter-peter-ing. And if this morning you woke up to a dusting of snow, as we did in Boston, you can still make yourself a sweet-tart dessert with a concentrated essence of Spring in it, Lemon-Rhubarb Custard Soufflé. And a great dessert it is, with two kinds of tartness, and 3 different textures, even if the hands that made it look a bit worse for the wear.
I spend a fair amount of time photographing the hands of restaurant cooks, and thinking about just how much to pull back the curtain. Cuts and burns and calluses compete for space on the hands of every line cook I know. I play with focus and depth of field. A lot. Most cooks look as if they’ve gone five rounds on the sidewalk with a mugger before clocking in. Of course they clean up, but their skin is often so abraded with cuts and burns, or chafed from washing a dozen times a day, that their skin stains faster and more easily and than the rest of us. Nails and cuticles seem particularly vulnerable. A few minutes of handling vegetables that oxidize or bleed when peeled or chopped is all it takes to render them muddy. The quotidien gore of portioning meat or fish renders them even worse. If Jody and I cook artichokes, potatoes or celery root together her hands take on the tint of Lapsang Souchong; mine are unaffected. Bakers aren’t immune, as any pastry chef with a chevron of forearm scars or pink singe dots across the knuckles can tell you. Cooks keep their nails short because they’re more sanitary, offer less space for evil to congregate and are easier to clean. If you see a nail that looks darker than it might in one of my photos, bet on it–it’s stained, not unclean. If the focus on a digit is a little soft, it may be because of the shallow depth of field, or it may be because I don’t want yesterday’s evidence of a duel with a boning knife to distract you from the chicken stock being poured into the pot. I appreciate the esthetics of women whose circumstances and inclination allow them to cultivate a manicured sexy sleekness in their hands–what planet are they from?–but hands inscribed with the night when twenty-seven chicken orders came in at once, or the afternoon a prep cook sliced himself deeply enough to go to the hospital, leaving bushels of Red Russets behind for somebody else to peel, those are the hands I find compelling. Call me romantic, but I like getting a plate of duck confit and fried potatoes from hands that look as if they actually prepared it. Besides, when the weather report forecasts a typhoon, who do you want on your island, someone with great nails, or a woman who can strip down a bike and turn out a Lemon-Rhubarb Custard Soufflé? Enjoy. Ken
Lemon-Rhubarb Custard Soufflé
Ingredients: Be sure all the ingredients are at room temperature.
- 2 cups rhubarb, cut into ¼-inch dice
- 1 cup white sugar
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1/8 teaspoon kosher salt
- 2 tablespoons lemon zest
- 4 large eggs, separated
- 3 tablespoons all purpose unbleached flour
- ½ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice
- ¾ cup whole milk
- ¾ cup heavy cream
Directions:
- In a small saucepan, toss the rhubarb with 2 tablespoons sugar and let sit 15 minutes. Put the saucepan on the stove over medium heat and cook until the rhubarb is soft and fairly dry, about 3 minutes. The goal is to reduce the juices and soften the fruit. Spoon into 8 6-ounce custard cups. Let cool.
- Preheat oven to 350°F.
- Take 2 tablespoons of sugar and set it aside for the egg whites. Put the butter and the remaining sugar in the bowl of a standing mixer. With the speed on high, beat the butter until smooth. Add the salt, lemon zest and and egg yolks, one at a time, and continue beating until the mixture is light and fluffy and the sugar dissolves. Turn the mixer to low, add the flour and beat to just combine. Add the lemon juice, milk and cream and beat to just combine.
- Put the egg whites into a clean bowl of the standing mixture with the whisk attachment. Using a moderate speed, beat the egg whites until they begin to foam. Add the remaining sugar in a slow steady stream and then increase the speed to high and beat until the whites hold soft peaks.
- Using a rubber spatula, stir the lemon custard mixture to ensure nothing has settled on the bottom of the bowl. Then stir a third of the whites into the lemon custard to lighten it. Gently fold in the remaining whites.
- Spoon custard over the rhubarb, being sure to scoop from the bottom of the bowl as the top will be lighter. Set the cups into a roasting pan. Pour warm water to half way up the sides of the cups. Bake 30-35 minutes, turning halfway through. The tops should should be puffed and golden brown.
- The most dramatic way of serving these is to present them warm, allowing everyone to enjoy the soufflés as they deflate, but speaking from personal experience, they still taste good after cooling to room temperature. Ken and Roxanne have no qualms about eating them after a night out on the counter or in the refrigerator, but tops of the soufflés shrink from the edges of the cup.
Hey, the surface was an experiment.
JODY NOTES
My mom used to make a version of this, sans rhubarb, from the Joy of Cooking, the source of many of our family recipes. I never pass a second-hand bookstore without checking for an edition older than my last find–the old editions are the best.
In 1986, Gordon and Fiona Hamersley asked me to join them as sous chef at their new restaurant, Hamersley’s Bistro, which they envisioned as a neighborhood spot where a menu of simple delicious food would encourage people to return week after week. When asked to come up with a few ideas I turned to what I knew, especially with desserts. This was one of my childhood favorites. Gordon liked it and adapted it. His version is still on the menu at Hamersley’s Bistro.
The custard cups shown in the photos are too small (we had leftover soufflé mix), so be sure to use ones that really will hold 3/4 cup of mix with a bit of room for expansion.
The Garum Factory 
I vote for the soufflé- sailing and ski boots add to the ‘hands’, too!! I checked hands, then laughed. Will share with others who join us in LIVING FULLY! Thanks, and HAPPY Easter weekend!!
Uh-oh, someone who believes in visual reality. :-) Happy Easter to you too! Ken
This looks delicious. I can’t wait for fresh rhubarb to show up in our market! Lovely pictures as always.
Thank you, Chaya. Fresh rhubarb is a treat. Good luck with the soufflé. Ken
I agree about the hands although I do try to keep them manicured:) Recipe sounds easy and yummy, that is if there is any rhubarb around that hasn’t frozen! Happy Easter and Marathon weekend to all…
I’ve seen your hands, BA. They fall into the sleek category (but I’d still keep you on my island). Ken
thanks but i have tons of little cuts and burn scars..you have seen me with a knife which you said was scary!!!!
As a goldsmith and foodblogger, well…my hands are far from the sexy manicured type :D
I only wish I’d forgot less often to apply some mosturizing cream, since with constant washing at work and home my hands are terribly dry.
I love custard, I love crumble, and adore rhubarb (so lucky my dad has it in his garden ;) )
This recipe is simply gorgeous.
I wish you a Happy Easter.
Lou
Hi, Lou–I don’t think I’ve ever encountered rhubarb in Europe. Nice to know it’s there, although, obviously, since it originated it Asia it almost certainly passed by. Re: hands–there was a time when our bathroom cabinet was dominated by two ingredients–various moisturizing creams and little blue pots of a burn unguent. And Happy Easter to you too–Jody is dying eggs as I write this. Ken
Beautiful as always. I love how you write about chef’s hands. A little Bourdaine-esque. I also love Jody’s notes about old cookbooks. I totally agree. I didn’t know you guys were in Boston. I thought you were in Rhode Island. Boo! We were there last weekend, I would have dropped by one of your restaurants and said hello. It would be such an honor to try your food! Next time. My best friend still lives there. This dessert actually doesn’t look too difficult. I’ve been looking for good rhubarb recipes. One question: Are your custard cups oven safe? ie if I use glass will they break when I bake them for 30 mins in the roasting pan with the water? Thanks as always!
Thank you, Amanda. Ours are oven-safe. All of the cups you see in the photos were baked in the oven–without incident. Regarding biking, we’re part of a trip going to Sardinia the last week in September, but I’m afraid it’s full. Good luck with the cycling. There’s always next year! (I generally post about it a few weeks before it goes on sale in order to give people a chance to sign up–there are so many people who are repeat riders the trips fill up quickly. Send me an email if you’re really interested and I’ll make sure you find out about the next one.) Oh, and I thought you were in London, not New York. Ken
So cool. Oddly I know you have a son in Brooklyn from your posts? But I just read the impressive bio on your pages. I guess you never know who youre cooking with online :) have a wonderful time in Sardinia. I can’t even imagine how beautiful that will be. Will need pics!
Also, I just looked into Jody’s bike tours. I’m obsessed with biking. We just invested in carbon road bikes and we go for miles. Every warm day this winter has found us on the bike riding down the West Side to Battery Park City through puddles of melting snow, but it’s so cool. I’ve been longing to do a week long trip through Vermont. Sigh.
This is incredible and so gorgeous! Thank you for sharing. You inspire me with every post!
Thank you, Hagen. Thank God for Spring, right? Maybe things will stop looking so gray. Happy Easter! Ken
Yes! Things are brightening up! Happy Easter to you as well!
Lovely recipe, as ever, and with tons of rhubarb in the garden one I’m definitely going to try, thanks. And I am so singing from the same hymn sheet when it comes to hands, nails and burns. I have a beaut of a brand on my wrist from the Aga, another potential scar to add to the collection.
Hi, Linda. Isn’t it funny about cooks and their scars–“I got this one filleting fish, I got this from touching a hot pan handle with my bare hands…” At least you have an Aga. :-) Ken
Thanks for pudding. I always perk up if there’s pudding. And a fascinating bit about hands that cook. Cooking is tough on hands and forearms; my hands and arms are scarred from a rubbish oven mitt or dish-cloths masquerading as one. Lovely photos as always, warts and all (there are no warts, just a turn of phrase). Sophie
Hi, Sophie. Dish-cloths masquerading as one… Ha! The best pot-holder we own is a flexible leather square, but half the time I can never find it hidden in the pot top drawer, so I resort to this silly plasticky things that look and feel like silpat material. They have a habit of springing out of your hand or going wonky at just the crucial second. (I knew you didn’t mean wart warts. :-) ) Ken
Lovely pudding! I have yet to make souffle by design, though there were baked egg dishes that domed impressively in the oven and looked like pseudo souffle. :-)
Agree on the hands, and – your hands are unaffected by artichokes?? I want your hands!
A paean to cooks’ hands! (Though I have to say that I’ve done more damage to mine —both of them!—in the last 2 days of gardening than I imagined was possible.) Lovely dessert. What a nice variation on the old lemon pudding cake. Now, if only I could find some rhubarb…
Hands are visual history – I have been a builder, welder, pantry chef, and now garden as extensively as arthritis allows. Will certainly use this recipe as the rhubarb is coming in here in Merrye Englande (and I remember Joy of Cooking very fondly indeed. Say it with me, now: Rich. Roll. Cookies.)
Ich wüschte bei Euch zu Gast gewesen zu sein.
Genau darauf habe ich jetzt Lust . . .
Danke. Ich würde dir gegeben habe zwei! Ken
Danke, herrlich, es zergeht im Mund ^o^
I’ve really been enjoying your blog. You guys make a great duo – great writing and stunning food. I’m from Boston and have been a big fan of Jody’s for years, some of my most memorable meals have been at Rialto.