Mousse au Chocolat
"Good taste is easy to recognize."
Hello, hello. How are you doing? Did you have anything good on Memorial Day weekend? I made Claire Saffitz’s lemon bundt cake and pretended it was the type of thing you could, in good conscience, eat for breakfast. We had a friend staying over so we splurged on a feast at my favorite local restaurant, Codex; some really special veggie appetizers, focaccia pillowy enough to make you weep, pimento cheese on edgy crackers the size of your forearm, ricotta gnudi in mushroom ragout, and icy, salt-tinged oysters with mignonette. A true once-a-year kind of meal on account of the final bill. But wow, worth it. I’ve also been making a big deal out of vegetables in general now that we have more than the brassicas (kale, cabbage, brussels) to enjoy. My garden is producing nothing so far but the occasional snap pea and some herbs, but peppery nasturtium flowers are bustin’ so they get to star in all our salads. It’s not yet tomato season, but things advance in that direction! And in the wild world, mulberry trees are still dropping fruit and all the brambles have tight green hopes for a bumper crop. I hope you’ve been outside this week because in between violent rainstorms, we’ve had some really great weather - even if the mosquitos have caught on.
You know, over the last couple years we’ve had a lot of shenanigans together in this newsletter. Today I’m going to ask you to suspend disbelief/disgust and take a spiral with me that starts with nostalgic cat-food ads and ends in a recipe for chocolate mousse. Commit to the curly fry and the twisty slide! These two connect. I promise. You know you want to see this thing through…
Something I appreciate about hanging out with small kids is that the world as imagined by children is a wild - and wildly beautiful - place. Kids’ brains are not weighed down by facts, disappointments, or even the concept of financial impossibilities! They create fanciful explanations for simple things, based purely on their own taste and scope of experience. Not to mention their cheerful disinterest in logic. They believe that every farfetched concept is achievable. Flying busses and subterranean fish? No problem. (Of course, the world as run by six year-olds would probably cease to function within a matter of days, but the ideas generated throughout would be legend!)
At one point as a kid, I grew obsessed with wondering about those balloon weights wrapped in shiny Mylar. Given permission after a birthday party, I spent ten minutes carefully unwrapping one. I just knew I’d find a cone-shaped sugar lump in the bottom. Was this urban legend? Family lore? The assumptions of a mind fond of sweets? At the end of that experiment I was left looking at a pile of shredded Mylar and a lump of concrete. I threw it away in disgust. Adults!
My imagination has always been particularly susceptible to aesthetic marketing, so I was easily captivated by ads I saw on television. Pretty soon, Fancy Feast cat food had me in a chokehold. I mean, the 90s commercial for Fancy Feast became my personal definition of luxury. That cat was on a cruise ship, being served by a butler who summoned her with the cheerful “Ting! Ting! Ting!” of a fork on crystal. Back then I loved anything sumptuous and elegant (I still do). And that cat was living the peak rich-girl lifestyle.
Naturally, when the POV of such an ad was your elegant self being served something delightfully chocolate-y in a crystal goblet, I wanted in. I must have some of that delicious-looking stuff. What a perfect image to capture the hearts of all fancy six year-olds: fine china, crystal dishes, airy “chocolate mousse,” and a toney white cat to sell it all! Give that guy a raise!
I drooled over the Fancy Feast “chocolate mousse” and its presentation. Ours was a budget household, meaning we didn’t buy many pre-packaged snacks; certainly not name-brand ones. It never occurred to me that maybe we didn’t buy Fancy Feast because it was meant for cats, and was chicken liver pate besides. We didn’t have a cat; I wasn’t allowed. And the cats I knew didn’t eat Fancy Feast, they ate Friskies, or some other pedestrian brand of food.
Of course, this confusion couldn’t last forever. At some point - possibly a family dinner - I learned about things like tinned cat food, and marketing execs, and that disappointingly few people have butlers, and that the women in yogurt commercials pretending to love the yogurt so much they throw back their heads and laugh are definitely lying about how good Yoplait is.
But a true delight of being an adult is the possibility of reaching back toward childhood to give one’s smaller self a hug and say things like, “Well why can’t we serve chocolate mousse in a crystal goblet?”
Or better yet, “Why can’t we get a kitten if we want one?”
I’m happy to say that this week, I have both. Over the holiday, we adopted a tiny black kitten! She is 2.5 pounds of snuggly spice with enormous ears and a sharp little face, and when she curls up on our laps for a snooze, we melt and say for the sixty-fifth time, “Can you believe how much she looks like a fox?”
We love Mozzie (our male orange tabby) so much but have felt occasionally that he would benefit from a little companionship. And, truth be told, we have missed the sort of cat that will curl up with you, since Mozzie is many things except the sort who likes to be associated with snuggling. Florence Mew - Flo - is a great addition to our home. We’ve moved vases and books and a decorative bowl of seed-pods out of her way. We have spent more time on the floor fishing rattle-mice out from under couches than our bodies appreciate. We have let our legs go to pins and needles so we won’t wake her prematurely from a nap. And it is just as great as you could wish.
So great, in fact, that I started thinking again about those cat food ads from the 90s, and about how I am quite old enough to deserve to right some old wrongs. So while I feed Flo her baby kitten food, I’m going to make some mousse au chocolat for myself. Just two fancy girls enjoying a fancy snack together. It will be what you might even call...a Fancy Feast.
Look, I know today’s Substack is inspired by a 90s cat food commercial, and that’s a little messed up. I respect that opinion. But also, mousse au chocolat. Who needs convincing to think that’s delicious? I’ll be honest with you, I have done no reinventing the wheel, and simply followed the recipe from the BBC, though I replaced the required brandy with amaretto, and am positive you could just leave it out altogether. Do look for local or free-range eggs, as you don’t actually cook the eggs in this recipe, so maybe avoid making it if you’re pregnant. Also avoid it if you're somebody who doesn’t taste cookie dough when you’re baking due to concerns about raw egg. This isn’t the recipe for you, friend.
Nothing is simpler than making a chocolate mousse! It’s really just beating, melting, and folding. Melting chocolate in a double boiler, beating egg whites and sugar into a meringue, whipping cream into soft peaks, and then folding it all together before a nap in the fridge. That’s it! I trust anybody to make this recipe, though because of the relatively small quantities I do recommend a hand-held mixer vs. a stand mixer, unless you’re planning a double-batch. You can portion it into espresso cups, ramekins or (yes) even a fancy crystal goblet. Okay. Have fun. This is a good one.
Mousse au Chocolat
Serves six
200 g. high quality dark chocolate
2 Tbs. amaretto
3 large, free-range eggs
50 g. natural cane sugar
100 ml. heavy cream
Grate 50 g. Of chocolate and reserve. Chop the rest and melt it in a heat-proof bowl placed over a pan of simmering water in a double-boiler method. Take the pan off the heat but keep the bowl over the hot water. Stir in the amaretto. If the mixture thickens, that’s okay! It will thin out later.
Whisk the egg whites in a large bowl or stand mixer till they stand in stiff peaks. Spoon in half the sugar, whisk again, then add the rest of the sugar and whisk till it becomes a glossy meringue.
Whip the cream in a separate bowl.
Take the chocolate off the stove and fold a spoonful of meringue into the chocolate to loosen the consistency. Tip the chocolate into the remaining meringue and fold in lightly but thoroughly. Now fold in the whipped cream., then two thirds of the grated chocolate.
Spoon the chocolate mousse into six small cups, jars, or (like me!) crystal coupe glasses. Chill in the fridge at least two hours, or overnight.
To serve, sprinkle with the remaining grated chocolate, and garnish with a crisp cookie, or edible flowers if you’re feeling fancy. Enjoy cold.
I made Claire Saffitz’s lemon bundt cake this week for a thank-you dinner party! (Thanks for introducing me to the recipe. I snagged a bundt pan at the thrift store this week, so it was clearly fate.) I crammed the cake making into my hour-long lunch break, and had my sister take it out of the oven. I skipped the glaze because I wasn't home to make it, but I will likely *NOT* do that again! It's yummy, but definitely needs the glaze. :)