Pavlovas, the hardest part

So, A Gentleman in Moscow (meh, although everyone else liked it, I had issues…so unlike me). Book Club was at my house this time, and I made a Russian meal. Lots of iced vodka, caviar, oh, no wait, neither one. But I did make pavlovas for dessert. Delicate meringues with berries and whipped cream on top. To make the pavlovas you need egg whites. This worked out well, meringue enough for 14 people and with the leftover yolks, key lime pie enough for 2 pies.

To be honest, making this kind of thing is frightening to me. But it turns out that whipping egg whites into foam is a task that is lot less arduous than whipping cream into, well, whipped cream. And baking the pavlovas was also very easy. After that it’s just a matter of slapping some fruit and whipped cream (Ironic that I had to whip both things for this) onto them. The dessert to me is a case of the sum being greater than the parts.

Although the hardest part now that I think about it was getting rid of the fruit flies. Later that day I discovered one of the pavlovas uneaten on a side table. As I approached it the hundreds of fruit flies who had taken up what they probably presumed to be permanent residence on it, fled. What that meant was those hundreds of fruit flies, formerly essentially on a wild sex rampage/food orgy, were now loose and homeless in my house. Their coitus castle/dinner cruise/baby incubator found its way to the garbage disposal in seconds. It’s times like these that you’d like to have a pet bat.

Winter cannot come soon enough.

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