BOULEVARD OF BROKEN BEARNAISE
We’ve been dealing with emulsions for a day or two at school and I’ve been feeling pretty confident. So confident in fact, that at dinner on Saturday night I tasted my mister’s sauce béarnaise and promptly scrunched up my nose saying, “The one I made was better.”
My confidence lingered on and I set out to replicate my better-than-thou béarnaise in the comfort of my own home.
It’s a fairly simple task:
1: Clarify some butter: Check!
2: Prepare reduction of dried tarragon, white wine vinegar, and minced shallots: Check!
3: Finely chop fresh tarragon and chervil: Check!
4: Whisk two egg yolks plus a splash of water in a bowl over a boiling pot of water: Check!
5: Whisk until a lovely, frothy, pale yellow sabayon comes into being: Check!
6: Slowly start pouring in clarified butter while whisking like mad: Check!
7: See glorious, velvety, very French sauce materialize: Houston, we have a problem.
My sauce broke, and with it my spirit…
Well, that’s being overly dramatic, but I am admittedly feeling really depressed about the broken béarnaise. Stay tuned for the sequel when I tackle the wretched recipe later on this week (I’d try it again tomorrow but I’m not allowed to eat red meat two days in a row, per my mister).
High Heels & Frijoles
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