By all appearances, I lead a pretty tame life.
No hang gliding. No drugs. No swingers clubs.
But then there's that little jar of cream sitting out on my kitchen counter for a full day.
I know it's shocking. But I'll say it again: Dairy. Room temperature. Twenty-four hours.
All to sate my mad, passionate desire for creme fraiche.
I took a cup of heavy cream, added a tablespoon of buttermilk, mixed, and let the stuff sit out until it was as thick as sour cream. It's in the fridge now, where it's supposed to stay for at least a day, and up to two weeks, before using.
I know it sounds risky, but Julia Child said it's OK. And yes, if Julia Child told me to jump off a bridge, I'd probably do that, too.
I'm using the creme fraiche Sunday in a brioche tart that's so good, it made Julia cry when she had a bite at the end of a memorable episode of "Baking with Julia." (The creme fraiche recipe above comes from the companion book to that series.)
If somebody out there wants the brioche tart recipe, I'll post that, too. (It's pretty long, so I don't want to do it on spec.) Just let me know.
Photo by math hubby