This started out as a column on making a foolproof dessert.
However, after my third attempt and the growing realization that foolproof did
not necessarily equal Johanna-proof, it turned into something slightly more
philosophical.
I therefore present the Panna Cotta Principles, lessons this
exercise in humility taught me about life and dessert.
Mind you, I’d never made panna cotta before, but I knew it
was pretty easy. Most recipes I’d come across were fairly straightforward,
but when I came across one that suggested some unique extra steps, I figured these
would certainly add something extra to the dish. My first mistake.
Panna Cotta Principle
#1: Simpler is better. Contrary to popular belief (and Facebook status
options), life and relationships don’t have to be all that complicated. It’s
people who like to complicate things for a variety of reasons, including our
penchant for drama and as my experience would indicate, the belief that if it’s
complicated, it must be better.
Well, it wasn’t. Even after hours in the fridge, my panna
cotta with the extra complication simply refused to gel, insisting instead on
remaining in a state of white, creamy puddliness.
Which brings me to Panna
Cotta Principle #2: Choose whom you trust. As I muddled (puddled?) through
this disastrous recipe, I wondered if the only reason for the extra steps was
to guarantee failure.
There was a time when I would have thought this a ridiculous
proposition, but when polling friends and acquaintances about what they would
do when they didn’t want to share a recipe, I was surprised to find out how
many would give one with deliberate errors or omissions in it.
Recipes can fail for many reasons, such as user error,
variations in the brands of ingredients, and even the appliances used. However, some people give out recipes
that are doomed to fail from the start.
It turns out this is a fairly common practice, especially
for people who are loath to share their trade secrets. To which I wondered, why
even give the recipe in the first place? Why not just say no? Or offer up
another recipe?
Many people do it for marketing and publicity purposes, but
here’s the thing. If I try your recipe and think it sucks, chances are, I
won’t have a lot of faith in your taste or talent and will likely give your
restaurant or product a pass.
The same thing applies to people who say they will when they
won’t, or that they know (or do) when they don’t. And as I cursed inwardly at the dastardly chef who had me
needing so much milk and cream I may as well have bought a cow, I decided to
commit to Panna Cotta Principle #3: Be someone
others can trust.
It’s easy to be seduced by the glitz of sweet-talking
recipes and people, but in the end, it’s the true blue that you stick with and
who stick with you through the years.
My fourth life lesson I also owe to Kenny Rogers whose old
country song kept running through my head—Panna
Cotta Principle #4: Know when to hold ‘em. Know when to fold ‘em.
On my first attempt, I overheated my panna cotta mixture
until it was a great, big clotty mess. My first instinct was to go ahead and
mix it in with the rest of the ingredients, then hope for the best. But I
realized throwing good ingredients in after bad would only result in more
waste, so I reluctantly chucked the whole thing.
The next time around, I followed the flawed recipe to a T
and put the entire mixture in the fridge.
Eight hours later and the damn thing was no closer to a panna cotta than
the cartons of milk and cream beside it. This time, however, I realized the
recipe defect was fixable. On my third attempt (at which point I had started to
wish I had made something easier like, say, a wedding cake), panna cotta 3.0
finally began to gel.
The next day, I carefully unmolded quivering orbs of silky,
creamy goodness onto a platter and drizzled them with strawberries, a balsamic
glaze and salty, crunchy, crushed pistachios, the ingredients I happened to
have on hand.
Panna Cotta Principle
#5: Work with what you’ve got. It’s usually a lot more than you think.
And as I savored the fruit of my efforts, I realized Panna Cotta Principle #6: Variety is indeed
the spice of life and dessert. The sweet, the tart, the nutty and the
fruity—embrace them all, because they’re just some of the variants that make
life and food so interesting.
As for my 7th
and final Panna Cotta Principle: Practice makes perfect. Especially when
it’s someone else’s. Learn from my mistakes as well as your own, and enjoy this
foolproof (and Johanna-proof!) recipe for panna cotta.
Panna Cotta
6-8 servings
Ingredients:
1 package unflavored gelatin
1 cup milk
2 cups whipping cream
1 tablespoon real vanilla extract
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon lemon
zest (grated lemon rind, yellow part only)
1 pinch salt
Topping options:
Sliced berries, mango
or any other fruit of your choice, fresh, macerated (soaked in liqueur) or
blended, sweetened and strained into a coulis
Crushed nuts (e.g.,
pine nuts, walnuts, almonds, pistachios) and honey
Balsamic vinegar
glaze
Sprinkle the gelatin
on the milk and let stand for 5 minutes. Add the milk-gelatin mixture, cream,
vanilla, sugar lemon rind and salt into a pan and stir until the mixture is hot
but not boiling.
Make sure the
gelatin and sugar are fully dissolved by rubbing some of the mixture between
your fingers. It should feel completely smooth, not sandy.
Divide the mixture
among 6-8 ramekins (depending on size) and leave to cool. Place into the fridge
for at least an hour or preferably, overnight.
When ready to serve, run a thin knife blade around the inside of each
ramekin. Mine came out easily, but if you have trouble, dip each ramekin into a
bowl of hot water for a few seconds to loosen the bottom.
Garnish with the toppings of your choice.
This article first appeared in The Philippine Star on January 22, 2015.
