Moulded Creams

Crèmes moulées (moulded savory creams) teach a beautiful bit of classical grammar: in a cold hors-d’œuvre, butter can be structure as surely as it is flavor. The one true thing to know before you touch a pan is that the cream sets by cold alone. Chill it thoroughly, never freeze it, and the tiny ridges release cleanly while the centre stays light.

The original entry assumed a garde-manger, the cold-kitchen cook, with ice at hand, a drawer of ornamented petits-fours moulds, and enough hands to turn out dozens at the instant of service. At home, a twelve-cavity silicone petit-four mould and the refrigerator do the same honest work. The ice station and brigade quantities were scaffolding and can go; the faint film of oil, the butter-set cream, and last-moment unmoulding are the dish and must stay. One cook, one stove, one evening.

Choose either Caviare Cream (No. 294) or Chicken Cream (No. 299), already made according to its own formula. The caviare version is saline and pearl-grey; the chicken one is pale and gentle. Pack the selected cream into every groove without trapping air, then wait until it is properly firm. That complete chilling is the step that decides whether the mould releases as a crisp little ornament or a soft spoonful.