Ok, so I’ve been influenced. My friend Jenny went to a glamorous party and posted a photo of the pudding: lemon sorbet, served inside the shell of the actual lemon and topped with swirls of burnished meringue. SO. VERY. PRETTY. She posted all sorts of photos of other things too: her chic outfit (she always has the chicest outfits); the interiors; other snazzy looking food. But all I could think about was WHAT A CLEVER IDEA (the lemons that is) and all I wanted to eat was that (or a version of that) for pudding right now. So I tried it at home.
Incidentally, someone I met at a dinner party the other day, in a sweet attempt to make polite conversation, asked me how I come up with ideas for new recipes. I told them that: typically I eat (or in this case see) something I like so much I want to eat it again, and so I try to make it at home. I keep making it until I have a recipe I love; then I write it down and put it in a book or a magazine or here on Substack, or wherever it is I think it will most likely get found by other people who might love it too. And that’s it really. I wish I’d been able to give a more eloquent description of what it is that I do, that my methods were a little more scientific, my sources rather more exotic than, well, just life generally really; because my dinner companion seemed a little disappointed, non-plussed even. I think they were hoping for something more. But there you go: that’s the truth of it.
Anyway, back to the lemons. So I obviously had to make the lemon puddings at home. Good news: it worked a treat and I’ve got the recipe here for you now. But in a twist, I ended up not using lemons (bear with me here), but oranges instead: my thinking being that lemon pudding feels a touch too summery for the mood these days, and I’m craving more of a winter citrus kind of palate right now. So: oranges. And once I’d committed in that direction, I felt that some chocolate was also needed: because you’ll surely agree that chocolate and orange is one of the most heavenly combinations of all time, and as it turns out, the addition of marshmallowy soft meringue to the two is - frankly - nothing if not a fantabulous bonus. Then I panicked about filling the oranges with ice cream lest it melt; and I wanted to make the not-lemon-but-orange-instead little puddings for a dinner party and therefore needed to be able to prep them in advance so as not to worry about fussing around at the last minute as my guests arrive, so I filled the oranges with a chocolate orange mousse before topping them with snowy caps of meringue. And I can’t tell you how happy the whole thing made me. Not quite what we started with, not quite a replica of what Jenny posted, but definitely something adjacent to or in the family thereof. And that, I guess, is how recipes come about. Like people they each have a personality of their own.
Anyhow, if your heart is set on sticking with our original lemon sorbet theme, you can and absolutely must do so: you could either scoop the flesh out of whole lemons, then fill them with a good shop bought sorbet (simple!) or make your own sorbet (here’s a good recipe) or if you have a copy of my book, A Table for Friends, you’ll find a recipe there for a limoncello semifreddo (creamier than sorbet), which comes served inside whole lemons, so you could also make that. Then just top with meringue as per the recipe below. And if you want to get ahead with things: my gut (and a quick Google) tells me that the soft meringue won’t freeze well, but you could definitely make up the sorbet filled citrus fruits, seal with clingfilm and store in the freezer (you can do this weeks in advance); then you can make the meringue, store in its piping bag and in the fridge for a day or so in advance, and then pipe and burnish each pudding just before serving. You could also serve the little sorbets in a big bowl of ice, which will keep them chilled for that little bit longer. Anyway, let me know how it goes… Would love your thoughts! And in the meantime, here is the recipe for the chocolate and orange mousse of dreams…
Chocolate and Orange Mousse with Toasted Meringue
Serves 6
6 oranges
160g orange scented dark chocolate, coarsely chopped
180g condensed milk
250ml double cream
3 egg whites
100g caster sugar
Slice the top off each of the oranges and set the fruit standing upright. If they wobble lots, you can slice a little off the bottom side too, so they have a flat surface to stand on. Use a teaspoon to scoop out the flesh of the fruit, digging in around the segments.
Now make the mousse: bring a medium sized pan of water to the boil. Set the chocolate in a heatproof bowl over the bubbling water (taking care not to let the water touch the bottom of the bowl) and melt the chocolate. In a second mixing bowl, combine the condensed milk and cream, and whisk until peaks form (taking care not to over-whisk). Let the melted chocolate cool a little, then stir one third of the cream into the melted chocolate, and little by little fold in the rest. Spoon the chocolate mousse into each of the orange shells and set in the fridge to chill.
Now make the meringue: in a spotlessly clean bowl, whisk the the egg whites until they become frothy, then add the sugar, one spoonful at a time, whisking all the while. Keep whisking until the meringue becomes stiff, thick and glossy; then spoon the meringue into a piping bag and pipe over the top of each mousse-filled orange shell, covering over all the chocolate and the pith of the orange with a snowy blanket of meringue. Lastly, use a blow torch to burnish the meringue all over, then chill in the fridge for at least 3 hours or until ready to serve.
They look gorgeous, I can’t wait to give it a try!