Let’s start with honesty. A great place to start.
I don’t pavlova often, and that’s because I can’t be bothered.
It’s arguably a faff and requires a few egg whites, which I never have, so that’s that. No pavlova.
But no pavlova is not an option, so I had to come up with something.
My usual pavlova approach usually demands like four egg whites, and the only time I have that many egg whites just knocking about is when I’m making a custard from scratch which… again… in the name of honesty… only happens when it’s necessary like for a trifle or something because otherwise, Bird’s Eye is that girl.
However, I was making a dressing for a Caesar Salad the other day and found myself, while cradling the yolk from one palm to the other, the slippery whites falling into a bowl, thinking ‘I’m not throwing them. I shan’t. I shall pav.’
That’s when a recipe for this mini pavlova manifested.
‘Manifested’ is actually quite an offensive term, because a pavlova does not just pop out of thin air, there is actually some commitment and madness and faff involved, so let me be clear… again in the name of honesty, I used an electric mixer.
Okay.
So I moved house recently (cooking in a new kitchen is a blog post in itself? Perhaps? Question mark? Let me know) and part of moving to a house over a flat means I have a far bigger kitchen, and more usefully, something we have anointed the ugly drawer.
Not actually a drawer and not actually ugly, it’s just a cupboard that’s tucked away from the main cooking area, but it is a deep, wide cavernous space where I can hide away all my bulky, ugly appliances that I don’t want out on my surfaces making my kitchen look like the inside of a spaceship cockpit.
And ohhhh, how I’ve embraced this. I have an air fryer now for fugu’s sake. I have a slow cooker. The waffle iron is back out of the attic. Mandolin? Vegetables have never been so skinny. Salad spinner? Sure, let’s start caring about clean leaves. Cake stands. I bake more now. You can’t move for Tupperware in that drawer, just launch it in. The whole bit.
And of course… the electric mixer… all big, red, shiny, the size of a little moped, and now offering so much more than collecting dust in my attic.
An electric mixer will make the ordeal of a pavlova so much easier because the majesty of a pavlova is all in the amount of air you can beat into your egg whites which, admittedly, takes some strength. I don’t exactly pride myself on having wonderful forearms and avoid gyms like Ducky in The Land Before Time avoids cracks in the floor, so an electric mixer just gives me the extra confidence that I need to air up the whites to soft, white, mountainous peaks.
Soft peaks. Every food writer who has ever written a recipe for pavlova just has that term on copy/paste, don’t they? Me included. It’s up there with ‘preheat the oven,’ and ‘bring to a boil.’
Anyway, back to the pav.
Some thoughts:
- Sugar – I’ve used a mix of two sugars for a little toffee-like glint throughout. Was it conscious? No, I just didn’t have enough white sugar when I first made this on impulse, but thoroughly enjoyed it, so therefore highly recommend it. But you could use all white sugar and be absolutely fine.
- Eggs – Imagine if I provided a substitute here? Anyway, as mentioned, this recipe makes use of just 2 eggs so the recipe below is suited for a little pavlova, although you could double for a bigger pavlova and increase the cooking time by about 25 – 20 minutes and keep the temperature the same.
- Vinegar –this is what reacts with the cornflour to create marshmallowy interior, and while I’ve called for apple cider, you could substitute for white wine vinegar or even lemon juice.
- Chocolate sauce – do as you wish here. You could even omit if you wanted, but I really wanted to slather it. I was in a slathering mood. I chose white chocolate because I loved the marbley aesthetic against the fruit and the creamy blandness that uplifts the malt. It could be deemed a little too sweet, which I would understand, so you could replace for dark or milk chocolate if you want something less sweet.
- Fruit – any berries work. I used a mix because I was giving my fridge a go-through, but you could keep it singular and just have strawberries or blueberries or raspberries.
- Malt – not absolutely necessary, but I like it. If you don’t, you could remove altogether.
So whether you’re finding yourself with a few unneeded egg whites wriggling around your hands or if you just feel like something decadent and impossibly satisfying, this pavlova will make you glad you turned up to the kitchen.
P.S. the ugly drawer visible in the below picture underneath the bottom shelf of books.
Serves 2 marvellously and 4 comfortably
For the pavlova
2 room temperature egg whites
100g caster sugar
25g light brown sugar
1 tsp cornflour
½ tsp apple cider vinegar
200 – 250g fruit (I use a mix of blueberries and raspberries)
For the whipped cream
200ml double cream
1 – 2 tbs ice sugar
For the malted white chocolate sauce
80ml double cream
80g white chocolate – chopped
1 tbs malt power
½ tsp vanilla extract
- Preheat the oven to 120°C (100°C fan) and line a baking tray with some baking paper
- Put a small plate (say a side plate – something mid-sized, not a big plate) on the paper and draw around it with a pencil. This will create a rough guide for you later when it comes to shaping the cake in a nice little circle.
- Now we need to whisk the egg whites. As mentioned, I use an electric mixer but it is possible in a clean bowl with a whisk. Either way, get those whites high and mighty until you can put your spoon in the whites, bring the spoon upwards, and it drags the whites up into little towers and creates… say it with me now… soft peaks.
- In a bowl, mix together the sugars, and add to the softly peaked egg whites a tablespoon at a time, either with the mixer motor running on medium speed or in between gently whisking sessions. Go until the egg whites take on a shiny gloss and no grains of sugar are visible.
- Now (by hand if you’re using a mixer), gently folder in the cornflour and vinegar until fully incorporated.
- Spoon the meringue into your prepared circle, and with the back of a spoon, shape the mound as round as you can. The pavlova will eventually and inevitably crack and almost fall in on itself, so don’t worry too much about have it toon neat and smooth, but do your best. It’s a satisfying task and I often have to force myself to stop smoothing it.
- Put in the oven for one hour and once this time is up, switch the oven off completely and leave in there, without opening the door (not even to peek!) for another hour or two. Overnight would be fab, but I know that’s pushing it.
- While it cools, we can prep the rest. For the whipped cream, whisk the cream with the icing sugar until, again… soft peaks form and it has thickened to a lightly soft but still sturdily spreadable consistency. Put in the fridge until needed.
- For the sauce, in a small saucepan, heat the cream until hot but not bubbling and certainly not boiling. Add the white chocolate and stir gently, helping it melt into the cream. Stir until smooth, and then add the malt powder, vanilla, and a little salt, stirring to mix. Keep to one side.
- Once the pavlova has cooled, take it out of the oven. Do not dismay at all if it looks like it is cracked and collapsing – this is the wonder and charm of a pavlova. If it looks absolutely wrong, it’s very, very possible you got it absolutely right. Now, put a plate or cake stand or platter (whatever you want the pavlova to be served on) gently on top of it. Turn it over and carefully peel off the baking sheet so that the flat bottom has now becomes the surface.
- Spread the whipped cream gently over the pav, coaxing it to the edges but leave a little rimmed border so we can see the gorgeously cracked edges. Top this with the berries (just pile them, no trouble) and drizzle the entire affair with the sauce.
- Slice. Serve. Invest in an electric mixer if you think you’ll make these often, because you just might.
MIKEY BELL 