After a thorough analysis of what was in the fridge, what sounded good, which recipes I could find and how much time I had to work some magic, I finally decided on the following. We would have a chef salad to start, followed by simmered honey glazed carrots, with a main dish of roasted rosemary chicken and some kind of dessert. It was the "some kind of" that led me to browse through a recent edition of the Everyday Food magazine.
The search through the fridge revealed two things concerning a dessert. The first being that the hens have been super productive of late, and the second being that I've slacked off on using up their eggs and had a HUGE bowl full of the beauties. With this knowledge, I was hoping to find a recipe that threw caution to the wind and required crazy egg use. And I found one! On page 91 of issue 88, my eyes were captured by a fluffy, puffy, orange creamy thing on a beautiful pink platter. I had all of the ingredients (including the required eight eggs), so I dove into making an "Orange Cream Pavlova".
The bottom layer is a meringue which involves beating a pinch of cream of tartar and 5 large eggs whites into stiff peaks, then gradually whipping in 3/4 c. of granulated sugar. Unless you have aggression issues and want to beat these puppies by hand, I'd suggest using a mixer. Once this concoction is mixed, you pour it onto a pan lines with parchment paper, using a spatula to make a 10 inch circle of puff, then bake it at 200* for 2 hours. Once the baking time is up, you turn the oven off and let it sit for a few of hours to dream about dating the Michelin Man or the Abominable Snowman. Seriously, don't disturb it. Let it dream while it can.
Next, comes the orange curd. Oh yes, read it once again, but a bit more slowly, savoring in the implications of flavor: O.r.a.n.g.e C.u.r.d
For this zippy delight, you need to mix 3/4 c. granulated sugar with 8 large egg yolks (ya-huh, eight!), 2 T. orange zest, plus 1/2 cup strained fresh squeezed orange juice, 1/4 c. lemon juice, and a pinch of fine salt. Since I love you guys and am also prone to strange things happening to me, I have a tip for you. When using a grater or zester for the orange, please make sure your knuckles are out of the way. Yeah, I uhhh...well, let's just say I got a little excited about using my new zester and very nearly turned my orange into a different colored variety. Oh, and since neither Andrew or I bit into anything unusual last night, I can also suggest your keeping your fingernails from accidentally jumping in on the zesting action. Just a thought.
So, with these tips in mind, combine all of these (unbloodied and unfingernailed) ingredients in a metal sauce pan, then crank up the heat to medium, stir constantly until it thickens then pour it through a sieve into a heat-proof bowl. It will help to use to spatula to push the curd through the mesh. Place the orange curd in the fridge to cool for later use. WARNING: If your finger happens to fall into the curd mix once it's cool, be warned that it might want to jump in again. Fingers and curds kind of have a thing for each other, so keep alert.
The final thing you must do before the fabulous dessert comes together is to whip up 1 and 1/4 c. of cold heavy whipping cream with 1 T. confectioner's sugar. You'll know you're done whipping when you have fluffy peaks resembling a miniature version of the Alps. Set this tiny range in the fridge next to the curd so they can contemplate their final destiny. If you check on them as much as some people might (and I'm not say who), they may realize their ultimate purpose in life is to be combined and consumed. But go easy on em, they haven't long to live.
With all of this prep work done, go enjoy your dinner as my hubby and I did. Take your time to eat. Rest a while. You've just worked your tushy off whipping, stirring and zesting (remember, knuckles optional).
When you're finally ready for dessert, pull the love-sick meringue circle out of the oven and place it on a pretty dish. A cake plate works nicely. Head to the fridge and retrieve your delectable curd and cream friends (who have no doubt have been awaiting their doom the whole time you took to savor your dinner). Spoon the orange curd onto the meringue, completely covering it, and then top it with the whipped cream. The magazine recommended garnishing this beautiful pile of caloric air with shaved white chocolate. You could also sprinkle a little orange zest on top for color, but do remember what I've told you about zesters! With this done, VOILA, you have your fantastic dessert ready to be adored before being sliced and devoured. Mind your slice sizing because though the pavlova is airy, it is pretty rich.
Once you've annihilated every hint of the pavlova on your plate, I highly recommend finding a place to collapse into a sugar coma. And make sure it's a comfortable spot because it may be a while before you wake up. And definitely stay away from the carpet...just in case your knuckles are still bleeding. ;)
*Picture courtesy of MS EveryDay FOOD Magazine
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