But beating them into a lovely frothy foam to turn into meringue...? That's another story. The first time I tried (for rainbow cookies), there was some latent moisture in the mixing bowl/on the mixer whisks, and I tried much longer than I should have, cursing them for not whipping up. When I eventually admitted defeat and started over, blammo: stiff peaks in like 2 minutes flat. Of course.
This time, I think my mixing bowl was the problem. I first tried in my huge aluminum bowl (perfect for making ice cream or ginormous batches of cookies). The eggs, cream of tartar, and sugar got all smooth and shiny and thick, but wouldn't come together to form peaks. Not even soft ones. After again beating for longer than I should have, I scrapped that, grabbed my trusty, ancient, plastic Tupperware bowl. Re-measured and started over with new egg whites. Again, blammo: fast, perfect meringue. Sigh. Next time I'll just start with that method. haha
My reason tonight for whipping up some eggies was to make a pavlova. I had seen this recipe on my favorite Irish cooking blog a while back, but was nervous. Cornstarch? White vinegar? I know...really basic ingredients, but still, two things not already in my arsenal. I was scared. Then, in last month's Coastal Living magazine, there was a beautiful pavlova topped with mascarpone and strawberries. Again intrigued, I scanned the recipe, and saw that this one lacked the cornstarch, so it was to be more like a traditional meringue (pavlova is a little marshmallow-y inside with a really crisp crust thanks to the vinegar and cornstarch versus a meringue which is a consistent solid texture throughout). I thought, "Hm. This one looks pretty damn simple. Why not!"
And so now here I sit. With about 20 minutes left of bake time (that's it at the left, just as I popped it into the oven). Then it has to sit in the oven for 2 agonizing hours, much like the cheesecake I recently attempted (OMG you guys...I haven't written about that yet...read on!). Which kills me. If it's an epic failure I'll never know until it's too late. Someday I'll have an oven with a window so I can peep in without opening the door and ruining the temperature. For now, though, I'll have to sit here in agony until I can open up and behold my creation. Call me Bakenstein. I hope my monster will be beautiful. And delicious.Cheesecake. Holy. Hell. This recipe is really easy, and so you may be wondering why the hell it took me so long to make one. One word, my friends. One word, which has struck fear into my heart for years: springform. I was terrified that I'd put all this work into a delectable dessert, and then the damned pan would be its undoing. So when my dad requested a cheesecake for his Father's Day dessert, I said, "Springform, I shall vanquish thee!" I sprinted to the store, bought a pan (actually, it was a 3-pack...go big or go home!), and came home, armed with chutzpah and hardware.
Well, I sprayed the bejesus out of that 9-inch pan, crushed up the graham crackers, mixed them with butter, and made the cream cheesy heavenly filling. Dumped in said filling. Popped the cake in the oven. And panicked. When I opened the oven door (after it cooled in the oven for 6 hours...yeh, it was pure torture), it looked like a cheesecake. But what we going on under that browned crust? Was it cooked? Would it taste okay? All questions that had to wait until the next day when we'd serve it up at Mom and Dad's. Thankfully, I had sprayed the pan so well the cake actually shrunk away from the walls as it cooled and baked, so un-springing it from the pan was remarkably simple. And it tasted. Amazing. Amazing. If I had it in a white box tied with red baker's twine, you'd've thought I bought it at a Brooklyn bakery. No lie--it was that good. Ask anyone who ate it.
I hope I can pat myself on the back after Mr. Pavlova finishes. The difference here is I've never had a pavlova, so however this tastes will be my litmus test. Wish me luck, friends!
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