Flamri

Flamri (a cold wine-semolina pudding) teaches one uncompromising thing: the semolina must swell completely before sugar touches it. Sugar added early slows hydration and leaves a grainy center; cooked in equal measures of white wine and water for the full twenty-five minutes, the grain becomes tender enough to hold eggs and stiff whites without turning heavy. The reward is a pale, softly aerated pudding under a brilliant coat of raw fruit.

The source assumed a pastry station with a row of small molds, a capacious Bain-Marie, and enough cold space to leave everything undisturbed. Here the quantity is halved exactly because the eggs divide cleanly, giving six home servings from one saucepan, six ramekins, and a roasting tin in a low oven. Purpose-made molds and brigade volume are scaffolding. The equal wine and water, the twenty-five-minute cook, the stiff whites, gentle poach, and uncooked fruit purée are the dish, so none of those changes.

Cook the semolina until no chalky point remains before you add the sugar. That is the step that decides Flamri. Everything afterward is gentle handling, and if the base lumps or the egg catches, ça se rattrape at the stove before the whites go in.