“The charlottes cooled in their tin molds while she squeezed lemons and crushed strawberries to flavor her Sicilian ices. The juices trickled into the rectangular tins she stored them in. Then she split off a sheet of foil and smoothed it out on top of the tins; the foil crackled beneath her hands. Later on, the names of the desserts she made got printed in dark green cursive on the backs of the menus: Raspberry Fool. Queen Mother's Cake with a shot of Rum. Mocha Ice Parfait in a Bitter-Chocolate Tuille. And, of course, Charlotte au Chocolat.” SummertimeDessertsBook TitleIces Book:Charlotte Au Chocolat: Memories of a Restaurant Girlhood Source: Charlotte Au Chocolat: Memories of a Restaurant Girlhood
“To me, nothing showed how much times had changed more than the disappearance of the charlotte au chocolat. (It still appeared at weddings and special events, but was no longer available on the regular menu.) This came about when my mother stopped baking the desserts herself and hired a procession of young pastry chefs. These pastry chefs had gone to culinary school, and apparently they didn't understand charlotte au chocolat. It was an old-fashioned dessert, whose beauty spoke for itself; it didn't need any frills. But the pastry chefs liked embellishing desserts with frills now: star-shaped cookies and chocolate cigarettes and spun sugar that looked like golden spiderwebs. Now, whenever I ordered dessert, I chose from clementine granita with red-wine-poached pears, almond cake trimmed with candied orange rind, or triple-crème cheesecakes, soft and dripping with huckleberry sauce. Charlotte au chocolat was gone.” DessertsBook TitleTimes Change Book:Charlotte Au Chocolat: Memories of a Restaurant Girlhood Source: Charlotte Au Chocolat: Memories of a Restaurant Girlhood