Panna Cotta of my dreams

I have a special attachment to the simple, creamy dessert called Panna Cotta. As with love, it’s inexplicable. When I arrived at the Studio the other day at the end of Robert Hammond’s pastry session, I asked the students what they had done and the first thing they mentioned was Panna Cotta. Robert added, “I had them prepare it with yogurt the way they do at Nostrana.” We both agree that one of our favorite desserts in Portland is the Yogurt Panna Cotta Kathy Whims does at Nostrana. Kathy’s dessert is one that Josephine Araldo would say is ‘unsurpassed.’

I remember years ago being the town of Gordes in Provence. It was a Sunday and we were just ambling. There was a market that morning to distract us with food and pottery and everything between. We drifted in the most delicious manner until the idea of lunch began to tease our consciousness. Once awakened I realized if you’re not at a table in France on a Sunday at midday, you are no one, nowhere. I asked immediately at the café where we should eat, and the waiter suggested a place in Roussillon, a village not far away.

I love the little village. You can’t really drive cars in it. So when you enter the town on foot through the big portal you fall into the rhythm of another time. The cobbled street leads straight ahead to a little chapel that opens onto a postage-stamp sized square. Of the two restaurants side by side, I chose the second. We entered a long narrow room that seemed filled, so I was very reassured when the server told us we could have the last table. She led us to a spot by a window overlooking a beautiful landscape.

Once at the table, and provided with a little aperitif and some thing to much on, I settled into the menu. I allowed myself to be pleasantly distracted by the people, ambience, noise, and aromas, certain that this meal was going to be good. I watched the waitress fly out of the kitchen almost brushing against me as she passed with a tray of desserts. It dawned on me that the people who had been there first were already being served dessert. I only caught a glimpse of those desserts, and they looked very appealing. Other people also expressed interest in them. I caught mention of “Flan,” and suddenly was struck with anxiety about whether there would be any left by the time it was our turn.

I beckoned the waitress when she passed. “Oui, Monsiuer.” “I’m anxious,” I confessed. She was genuinely concerned by my ploy. “But what is it?” she asked. I explained that I’d been watching her hurrying from the kitchen loaded with desserts that everyone else also seemed interested in. I told her I realized that I was probably the last person through the door for lunch, and was afraid that there might not be any when my turn came. Suddenly she relaxed and gave me a big smile. “Not to worry Monsieur, I assure you there are plenty of them,” and she continued on with her work.

We loved every minute, every bite of our Sunday dinner in that little restaurant. Each time someone asked about the dessert, she’d reply over her shoulder, in a friendly way but without stopping, “Flan.” When our time came, it obviously wasn’t necessary to order. She knew to bring the ‘flan’ to us. It was lovely and I savored every taste. But I was a little perplexed because it didn’t seem like a normal flan. The next time she passed by and stopped to make sure I was content, I asked her what the dessert was. “Panna cotta,” she admitted shamelessly, as though she could only tell a foreigner the truth, but was forced to tell the French diners only what they understood.

At the end of the meal we were invited to the tiny three-stool bar near the entrance and were offered coffee. We had the chance to meet her and her husband, the owners of the establishment. We shared an instant and genuine friendliness, as though the barriers of language and culture didn’t matter. We discovered we had friends in common, and we’ve remained friends.  That experience is at the heart of my attachment to Panna Cotta; it’s emotional, and cannot be explained.

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Robert Hammond is an exceptional baker and instructor who will conduct a 5-day baking class beginning Monday August 16th. Then beginning September 7th he will resume a 2-day course of baking instruction he designed. His pastry course is part of a larger 8-week course offered four times a year at the Studio and taught by Robert Reynolds.

Anyone who has an interest in the pastry course Robert Hammond teaches at the Chef Studio is invited to come spend a Tuesday with us in the kitchen, or to come at the end of Tuesday class for coffee and a sampling. Email: troufood@me.com for details.

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