Charlotte Russe is
a dessert that we have eaten at my house for as long as I can remember,
especially around the holidays. It has a
delicious flavor, a unique texture, and an impressive appearance. It consists of Bavarian Cream set in a mold
of ladyfingers, and my family serves it in a glass trifle bowl. It has a rich, authentic vanilla flavor, not
like a fast food vanilla shake or a processed food. No other vanilla compares. There is also a hint of whipped cream. The texture makes it even more
appetizing. It is thick and creamy, but
not uniformly smooth like a pudding or frozen yogurt because the sweet breading
from the ladyfingers mixes with the cream.
The ladyfingers and the cream are two very different flavors, but they
complement each other beautifully.
Taking a bite of Charlotte Russe is a unique experience that brings back
many happy memories for me. It amazes me
that so few people have ever heard of it or tried it. After learning a lot of information about the
dish’s origins and its rise and fall in popularity, I have a renewed
appreciation for it.
While most
families are baking their pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, my Dad, my brother, and
I are preparing a Charlotte Russe; my Mom is in charge of the turkey and the
rest of the meal. My Dad really enjoys
making the Charlotte Russe because it reminds him of his early childhood. When my Dad was seven years old he lost his
Mom to cancer. He has very few memories from the time when she was alive, but
he cherishes those that he has; she making the dish at Thanksgiving is one of
them. For me, taking a bite of Charlotte
Russe when I’m away at school reminds me of being home with my family,
somewhere I’ll be in a few weeks, something to look forward to. For my Dad, a bite of Charlotte Russe is just
a small piece of something that is long gone.
We even use the same recipe that my grandmother used to make it. My Aunt
Franny is the cook in the family, and she is the one who has the original
recipe. Every year around Thanksgiving,
and whenever else we want to make Charlotte Russe, my Dad e-mails her asking
for the recipe. Usually she will send a
scanned copy of the original that looks ancient. My grandmother was French, and being that
Charlotte Russe is a French dessert, my Dad, my Aunt Franny, and I were all
curious about whether there was any connection there or any special
significance to my grandmother, but no one seems to know (Conway).
Obviously our
Charlotte Russe will always be that link to the past for my Dad, but it is
something very rarely talked about; it’s more in the back of our minds. We don’t get really sentimental about it.
Nowadays we focus more on its tradition in our nuclear family. When I hear “Charlotte Russe”, I think of the
time spent in the kitchen with my Dad and my brother whipping the egg whites
and licking the mixing bowl, and for my Dad this has become the primary
connotation, too (Conway).
When I first
started my auto-ethnography I was really struggling to describe what Charlotte
Russe is like; I needed to taste it. I
checked the local bakeries, but none advertised Charlotte Russe. The grocery store
Publix, however, can make the dish with only a day’s notice. I considered ordering Publix’s, but decided I
would rather have our own recipe, so I decided to try to make it. I went out and purchased the ingredients,
borrowed mixing bowls from my RA, and assembled in my dorm’s kitchen. I had a pot and bowls that would work, but I
had one major setback: rather than a mixer, I found myself with a plastic
fork. Beating the egg whites and cream
took forever, but I overall I think it went smoothly and the dish turned out
well. After it had chilled overnight, I
brought it out to eat and share my friends from my floor; I can’t imagine
eating Charlotte Russe alone, it’s meant to be enjoyed with family and friends. None of them had ever heard of it before,
much less tried it, but they all really enjoyed it, and by the end of the day,
we had eaten the whole thing. I couldn’t
believe that had all been missing out for so long. Researching the dish’s history gave some
insight into its fall from popularity.
As the name
implies, Charlotte Russe is a type of charlotte— essentially anything set in a
mold of cake, ladyfingers, a Swiss roll, or any type of breading. There are two types of charlottes, baked and
unbaked. According to the Oxford
Companion to Food, the original was the apple charlotte, a baked dessert originating
in Britain during the late 18th century. It consisted of stewed apples in a mold of
buttered bread, which was then baked.
The most common theory for the name “charlotte” is that this dish was named
for Queen Charlotte, wife of King George III of the United Kingdom, because she
is said to have been a major supporter of apple growers (Davidson and
Wannithone 157). Shortly after the
creation of apple charlotte, the famous French chef, Marie Antoine Carême created his own version of the charlotte,
my much-loved Charlotte Russe; one source pinpoints the year as 1802 (Ayto 66). Carême was a huge celebrity in his day. His confectionary decisions dictated trends
all over Europe; what he did, others followed. One article gives us particular
insight into Carême’s life and philosophy, allowing us to better appreciate his
culinary innovations. Abandoned by his parents when he was only ten years old, Carême
needed a way to survive. He began
working in a kitchen under a well-known chef, where he quickly excelled. By the
age of 18 he was being called all over Europe to cater the banquets of some of
the continent’s most rich and powerful. Carême’s
true passion in life was architecture, but growing up poor, a career designing
monuments was unattainable. Instead, he turned
to confectionery (Goldstein 691-715). One article mentions that Carême is believed
to have said that, “The Fine Arts are five
in number: Painting, Music, Poetry, Sculpture, and Architecture— whose
principle branch is Confectionery” (Goldstein 692). He created huge, magnificent entrees and desserts, referred
to as pièces montées. When designing
these, he followed principles like the five orders of architecture. Carême even went so far as to publish recipes
explaining how to create scaled models of well-known buildings and monuments;
in addition to instructions, Carême explained the philosophy behind his
ingredient and design choices, choosing foods whose characteristics parallel
those of the raw materials they represent (Goldstein 691-715). Carême’s pièces montées were not just
desserts, they were masterpieces meant to astound guests; but if the rest were
anything like Charlotte Russe, I’m sure they were all delicious, too. One source quotes a mid-19th
century author, writing “In ‘Directions for Cookery’ (1851),
Philadelphia-based Eliza Leslie remarked that charlotte russe was generally
served at large parties, ‘and it is usual to have two or four of them.’
(Perry)”. I had no idea that the dessert that sits in a trifle bowl on my dining
room table had such grandiose origins.
Carême had originally named the dish Charlotte a la Parisienne, but later
changed the name to Charlotte Russe.
Most sources agree that this was done in honor of the Russian Tsar
Alexander I. According to one article,
Alexander became very fond of Carême after he catered a dinner welcoming the tsar
to Paris. Alexander was so impressed
that he invited Carême to return to St. Petersburg with him to be his maître
d’hotel, his head chef. Carême declined,
but twice more prepared meals for the tsar in Paris; after both, Alexander
again enjoined him to return to Russia, but Carême continued to decline. Finally Carême changed his mind and went to Russia,
but when he arrived there, Alexander had just left town and wouldn’t be back
for 40 days. Carême stayed in St.
Petersburg for a short time, but he hated the place. Russia was in a period where they emulated
France, so Carême found everything to be a poor imitation. He soon returned to France. In one of his books, Carême writes about
Russian cuisine, describing it as being far inferior to that of France
(Goldstein 691-715). It is ironic that
Charlotte Russe, literally “Charlotte Russian”, one of Carême’s best-known
dishes, takes the name of a country he thought so little of.
Charlotte Russe came on the scene as a grand dish, a favorite at any gala
for Europe’s rich and powerful, but in the end its own popularity contributed
to its demise. One article documents the
key contributing factors to this. When
Charlotte Russe was first invented, vanilla was hard to come by; it had to be
imported from Mexico. This rareness made
it so much more desirable because it was something that most people didn’t have
the means to acquire. This all changed in 1841, when someone developed a method
for pollinating vanilla elsewhere, allowing it be mass-produced. From then on, vanilla was in everything, and
Charlotte Russe’s popularity soared.
Within decades it was no longer a specialty for the social elite, it was
for everyone. Even restaurants that
catered to the lower class were serving it.
As time went on, people came up with easier and cheaper recipes that
enabled anyone to make it at home.
Charlotte Russe, and vanilla in general, were no longer a luxury. It had lost its allure as a special treat; it
was something anyone could have (Perry).
One article documents a whole different type of Charlotte Russe that
developed around this time. It was
essentially a small cardboard box on a stick, lined with cake and filled with
whipped cream—a lot like a push-pop. In
the fall and winter in New York City, kids would line up at bakeries and street
carts to get this treat. It was enjoyed
mostly by the lower class, Jewish community.
In the mid to late 20th century, this simple treat died off,
most likely due to the rise of fast food (Koenig). What a life Charlotte Russe had: from
Europe’s high society, to New York City street carts, to near extinction. A dessert so grand and delicious doesn’t
deserve this fate.
I love eating Charlotte Russe, and I take every chance I get to share it
with others. I think it’s great when they
enjoy it as much as I do. At first I
thought it would be really exciting for Charlotte Russe to make a comeback, to
be able to order it in a restaurant, and see people enjoying it everywhere, but
maybe it isn’t so bad that it’s so unknown.
It is nice having something to claim as your own; this will never stop
me from sharing it and talking it up those who haven’t tried it, but I do like
that it has that special quality. I
guess it’s the same idea as people who keep a secret family recipe for a dish. It is something that is important to you and
those close to you, and something you can pass down to the next
generation. When I have a family of my
own, I will be sure to make Charlotte Russe a part of their holidays, and I
hope for my Dad to be there helping, too.
CHARLOTTE
RUSSE
1
pint whipping cream (2 cups)
1
pint milk (2 cups)
3
eggs separated - yolk from the egg white
1
envelope Knox gelatin
1/2
tsp. vanilla
1/2
cup sugar
2
packages ladyfingers (24)
Dissolve
gelatin in cold milk. When it is dissolved scald the milk. Beat the egg yolks
with the sugar until light yellow. Pour a little of the hot milk into the yolks
and stir well; then slowly dribble the yolks into the hot milk. Cook over
medium heat for 2 minutes - do not boil. Let cool thoroughly.
Whip
the egg whites until stiff. Fold in the egg mixture. Beat the cream until stiff
and then fold into the egg mixture.
Line
the serving bowl with the ladyfingers; pour the mixture into the bowl and
chill.
My Own Attempt
Works Cited
Ayto, John, and John Ayto. "Charlotte." An A-Z
of Food and Drink. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2002. 66. Print.
Conway, Terence J. Telephone interview. 17 Apr. 2012.
Davidson, Alan, and Soun Wannithone. "Charlotte." The
Oxford Companion to Food. Oxford [etc.: Oxford UP, 1999. 157. Print.
Goldstein, Darra. "Russia, Carême, and the Culinary
Arts." The Slavonic and East European Review 73.4 (1995): 691-715.
Print.
Koenig, Leah. "Lost Foods of New York City: Charlotte
Russe." Capital. 6 Feb. 2012. Web. 26 Apr. 2012.
Perry, Charles.
"Long Live the Queen of Desserts." Los Angeles Times. Los
Angeles Times, 30 Mar. 2005. Web.
25 Apr. 2012.
