Cherry Clafouti, Take One

I don't remember loving cherry clafouti as a little kid, but I'll take my mom's word for it that I did. Apparently, she used to make it for me so often that the particular page in her copy of Mastering The Art of French Cooking is dog-eared and stained. She even showed it to me last weekend, and didn't seem at all irritated that countless hours in front of the oven had been squandered on her forgetful daughter. I think I would have been.

Lest I con you into believing that I was an exceptionally sophisticated toddler, it's important to point out that a clafouti is little more than a really big fruit pancake, sprinkled with sugar. Not exactly challenging to the palette. We're not talking foie gras and sweetbreads here. Clafouti is also incredibly quick and easy to make and almost impossible to mess up.

Or, so I thought. This week I had a couple of pints of local cherries on hand and the burning desire to make a clafouti with them. What I did not have was the three eggs or the appropriate baking dish called for in Ms. Child's recipe; I had two eggs and a 12' cast iron skillet. So, I thought: what's the harm in using a different recipe? How bad could it be?



Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. My clafouti was kind of an embarrassment, all lumpy and unevenly baked and not having risen like it should. Sure, it was edible, but it's a buttery, sugary carbohydrate. So that's not saying a lot.

A word to the wise: when Julia Child has a recipe for something, don't ask questions. Just make a habit of using it.

The trouble with written recipes is that they have a way of looking very official, whether they were written by Pierre Gagniere or some model/actress that the Food Network taught knife skills and put on TV. You must resist the urge to trust every recipe that crosses your path, because many are flat out bad: lazy, hastily done, misleading, inexpert. I know this sounds a bit like a Buddhist parable -- "believe nothing, not even what I tell you" -- but there it is. If at all possible, figure out a few culinary authorities whose judgment you trust and seek out their recipes. Julia Child wasn't perfect, but she had the good sense to learn time-tested preparations and write them down accurately.

I know Julie Powell has cornered the Julia Child market so I'm not going to elaborate any further on this point. I'm not going to give you the recipe for this either, because I wouldn't be doing you any favors. But I will remake it the Julia way one of these days and show you the difference.