Page 77 of Collin: Episodes 1-3
Collin nodded.
Together they went into the bathroom. Collin pushed down his pants and watched as Mr. Moreau keyed open the lock. There was still a lot of water to pass from drinking away the spice of dinner. Finished, Mr. Moreau replaced everything and washed his hands, motioning for Collin to do the same after him.
In the kitchen, Mr. Moreau started pulling ingredients out of the cupboards. “Eggs, please, from the fridge, kitten.”
Collin obeyed, still wiping a bit of water from his eyes now and then.
Mr. Moreau selected his desired number from the carton and motioned him to put the rest back. “You don’t want to bake with cold eggs, but since it’s late, get a bowl with warm water, not hot, and float the eggs in it.”
Collin searched the cupboards for a bowl and ran water from the tap. Then he slid the eggs in one by one. The displaced water spilled out on the counter. Collin pushed back, but his pants were still darkened by a long streak of water.
Mr. Moreau stepped up beside him with a towel and mopped off the counter, stopping the spill. Then he turned to Collin.
“You can put on new pants, or you can just dry a bit of it off with this.” He held out the towel.
“That, sir.”
Mr. Moreau nodded and gave over the towel, returning to measuring. “Have you ever sifted flour?”
“No.”
“Well, today is when you learn, but let’s get you an apron. Only the most fastidious of bakers can do this without fallout.”
“What are you baking?”
“We are making profiteroles. Your role will be to keep stirring until I tell you to stop. The batter is made mostly over heat until we remove it and add the eggs.”
“You mix the dough over heat?”
“Yes.” Mr. Moreau smiled. “You will see.”
They started with butter in a saucepan. Collin stood in front of the stove and stirred. Watching the spoon move around the pan hypnotized him. He almost startled when Mr. Moreau appeared at his elbow with a measuring cup of water.
“That’s a lot of water.”
“Yes.”
“You know, I don’t even know what profiteroles are, sir.”
“They are bits of heaven, according to Richard. Balls of air filled with cream of whatever type one likes.”
“Wouldn’t that make them mushy?”
Mr. Moreau chuckled. “No, kitten, that is why we cook them twice. Observe and understand.”
The flour went in next, and then they took the pan off the heat and let it cool while preparing baking sheets. The oven was already heating. Collin had missed Mr. Moreau attending to that. It was nice to work with his hands after all the days of rest. Collin started the dishes on his own, not that there were many, while Mr. Moreau folded the eggs into the batter. Then Mr. Moreau insisted that he help fill the piping bag and portion out the bits of dough on the baking sheets.
Once in the oven, it seemed as if they would be done, but Mr. Moreau checked the fridge and the freezer and hummed in the back of his throat. “I think we will make whipped cream for half of them and then fill the rest in the American style with frozen custard and ice cream. There’s no time tonight to make traditional custard.”
Collin nodded while wiping down the counter.
Mr. Moreau glanced around the kitchen. “You keep an excellent workspace, boy.”
“I’m a bartender. Well, I was. You don’t want things to stack up on you.”
“Once a bartender, perhaps always one. Never think that your knowledge and experience from that position will not come in good stead in your current role. Alcohol is an entire language. Richard sent Matthew to study with a sommelier for a summer once.”
“That’s an education of a lifetime.”
