Mille feuilles, Custard Tarts, Meringues and Vulnerability

by Libby

'This is really awful to watch. Pastry?’ Olivier was holding a tray of mille feuilles, meringues, slices of pies and little custard tarts with glazed fruit on top...'I’m the official caterer for the disaster that’s about to happen. I can’t imagine why Clara is doing this, she knows what Yolande has been saying behind her back for years. Hideous woman.’ (Kindle, Still Life, p.125)

Clara has just approached Yolande, Jane Neal's niece, to offer her condolences. It's an action anticipated with dread by Clara, and painful inevitability by most of those watching on.

In this one tense scene we gain considerable insight to Clara's character. She is powerless to stand up for herself when faced with this difficult, aggressive person. And it goes back to her childhood. Yolande's behaviour is the emotional trigger, a reminder of Clara's school experiences, her vulnerability, and the pain of being teased, rejected, excluded.

For many years Clara would remember how it felt standing there. Feeling again like the ugly little girl in the schoolyard. The unloved and unlovable child. Flatfooted and maladroit, slow and mocked. The one who laughed in the wrong places and believed tall stories, and was desperate for someone, anyone, to like her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The polite attention and the balled up fist under the school desk. She wanted to run to Jane, who’d make it better. Take her in those full, kindly arms and say the magic words, ‘There, there.’ (Kindle, Still Life, p.127)

Clara's experience is a reminder, of the long-term effects of being harassed, intimidated and excluded as a child, of feeling inadequate and powerless. There are lasting consequences in terms of a person’s confidence, levels of anxiety and self worth which can make it hard dealing with difficult situations and challenging circumstances. We're reminded of those experiences that keep you captive throughout your life, that can define how you see yourself, that make you vulnerable. Your rational self knows that you can't control someone else's behaviour, but you can control your attitude or reactions to them. Easier said than done though when an emotional trigger is set off.

When she’d gone over to speak with Yolande, Clara had known this would happen. Known that Yolande, for some unfathomable reason, could always get to her. Could hurt her where most others couldn’t reach. It was one of life’s little mysteries that this woman she had absolutely no respect for, could lay her flat. She thought she’d been ready for it. She’d even dared to harbour a hope that maybe this time would be different. But of course it wasn’t. (Kindle, Still Life, p.127)

At another level, Clara’s issues of confidence and self-esteem are seen in her struggle with her identity as an artist, particularly compared to Peter's recognition and success. Her artistic expression is unconventional, searching for meaning, and this puts her on the outer; her works are not easily understood or saleable. She is still trying to find her artistic language while having to deal with feelings of inadequacy and anxiety. She has the comfort of supportive friends and an overtly supportive husband, but she is vulnerable.

Change is possible, though. Clara has recognised this by the time she sends the Queen of Hearts (with its inherent meaning of 'change') to Yolande. Over time, empowerment for Clara comes through her art as she faces her fears. She understands vulnerability, fear and courage, and she finds a language in her art to truly express this, through the portraits she creates.

When it came to the food in this scene in the Bistro, I was really struck by how Louise Penny created some telling contrasts. Olivier as ‘caterer for the disaster’ serves, ironically, delicate little pastries, while Yolande's family are described in the most revealing terms through the food they are consuming. Louise Penny creates this wonderful tableau of Yolande, her husband and her son, where their eating amplifies the buffoonish and ugly nature of their characters.

Yolande reached out a hand to take her husband’s, but both his hands were taken up clutching a huge sandwich, gushing mayo and meat. Her son Bernard yawned, revealing a mouth full of half-chewed sandwich and strings of mayo glopping down from the roof of his mouth. (Kindle, Still Life, p.126)

Well it wasn’t hard to decide what food to recreate from this scene. In terms of economy of effort, the mille feuilles, berry custard tarts and meringues were my choice. They go especially well together as the custard (crème pâtissière) is used for the first two, and the leftover egg whites for the last. 

For mille feuilles, a thin layer of pastry is baked between two baking sheets (to prevent the pastry from puffing too much) until it is crisp. When cool the pastry is cut and layered with crème pâtissière and a flavouring of choice. I used home-made apricot jam, given to me by a friend. A dusting of confectioner's sugar completes the mille feuilles. Pretty delicious!

Oh the joys of making your own puff pastry, if you have a bit of time on your hands -- not sure I'll make a habit of it though! I used Julia Child's recipe in Mastering The Art of French Cooking (a new addition to my cookbook library). The dough preparation and rolling and folding process is particularly well explained and illustrated. Of course if you're pressed for time, choose a quality ready-made commercial puff pastry.

But don't be fooled by these delicate looking mille feuilles. Pure unadulterated carnage can ensue when you try to cut them into slices for serving. I speak from experience! Fortunately this nifty visual demo of making and assembling a 'Napoleon' mille feuille also provides a 'trick' for successful slicing.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=KnyEzaPbdAQ

Crème pâtissière

6 egg yolks at room temperature
2 cups of milk
3/4 cup of superfine sugar
6 tablespoons of cornflour
1 vanilla bean, split

Bring the milk and vanilla bean to a simmer in a saucepan.

Whisk the egg yolks, sugar and cornflour in a bowl until thick.
Pour the milk into the bowl, remove the bean, and whisk until smooth.
Transfer to a clean saucepan and stir continuously over moderate heat until it thickens. Remove from heat and beat rapidly with the spoon. Pour through a strainer into a bowl. Cool, then cover the surface with a layer of plastic film to prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate.
I added some thickly whipped pure cream to lighten and create a silky custard for the mille feuilles and berry tarts.

Berry custard tarts

short crust pastry  (I made an unsweetened pastry)
crème pâtissière
fresh blueberries, strawberries or other
2-3 tablespoons of blackcurrant jelly plus a teaspoon of superfine sugar

Bake the pastry shells until golden. Cool.
Gently warm the blackcurrant jelly and dissolve the sugar in it. Cook to reduce slightly, and cool. Fill the pastry shells with crème pâtissière. Top with berries. Glaze over the berries with the blackcurrant jelly. It adds a wonderful punch of flavour to the berries and gives them a glossy appeal.

Meringues

6 egg whites at room temperature
300g/10.5oz superfine sugar
1 cup almonds (skins on) lightly toasted and then roughly chopped
grated rind from 1/2 orange and 1/2 lemon

Whisk the egg whites on low speed and gradually let them build strength (the bubbles will start to appear smaller and more even). Increase the speed and as it thickens whisk in the sugar, a spoonful at a time, until the mixture is thick and glossy. Keep whisking until all the sugar has been dissolved. The meringue should not feel grainy. Fold in the almonds and citrus rind. Place tablespoons of the meringue on a baking sheet lined with baking paper. You might need to use two baking sheets depending on the size of your meringues. Bake in a low oven, 100C/210F, for 1.5 to 2 hours, until crisp on the outside and still slightly chewy on the inside. Leave in the oven to cool.

All those meringues made me think of a rather simple and 'messy' dessert, Eton Mess (a traditional English dessert). Now this can be a sickly, sweet affair if you get too carried away with ingredients including syrupy sauces. At its simplest and most elegant, Eton Mess needs only three ingredients; finely baked meringues broken into bits, a delectable berry of choice (which can be crushed to make a gooier consistency, if desired) and pure unsweetened, whipped cream. It's a wonderful explosion of flavour and texture contrasts, with the fruity acidity of the berries balanced with the sweet crisp meringue, which also brings more complex flavours to the Mess if you've added toasted nuts and citrus rind (or other flavourings of choice) to the meringue. And held together, of course, by the silky cream.

As I made it, I thought this 'messy' dessert might have suited what had transpired between Clara and Yolande in the Bistro. But I think Ruth had a better measure of it.

Ruth Zardo would also remember this moment and turn it into poetry. It would be published in her next volume called, ‘I’m FINE’: You were a moth brushing against my cheek in the dark. I killed you, not knowing you were only a moth, with no sting. (Kindle, Still Life, p.127)