5. Melt It Slowly, Like Snow on a Roof

Vera: Last time at this table we pressed dates into little logs and rolled them in coconut, and nothing needed heat at all. One little girl took the last two home in a napkin, and her mother sent back the napkin washed and folded, with a note asking what we would make next.

Anton: Something with a little warmth in it, then, but only a little. Today the fruit stays cold and the chocolate is melted gently, so the children meet heat for the first time from a safe distance.

The Strawberry Patch Behind the House, Years Ago

Vera: Chocolate and strawberries always bring back my daughter Ada. When she was six we had a strawberry patch behind the house, beside the rain barrel, where the rhubarb leaves grew as big as umbrellas and the snails sheltered under them.

Vera: For her birthday I melted a bar of chocolate and let her dip the berries she had picked herself. She dipped the first three, then dipped her own fingers, then dipped the cat's paw. The cat forgave her. I took longer.

Anton: And now?

Vera: Now she dips strawberries with her own children, every June, and calls me to tell me about the cat.

Morning, by the Fruit Bowl

Anton: The chocolate itself comes from hot, rainy lands near the middle of the world, where the pods grow straight out of the tree trunks, heavy and ridged, like lanterns hung on the bark. The beans inside are bitter until they are fermented, dried, roasted and ground.

Vera: Gil is sitting on the wide windowsill with the fruit bowl in his lap, choosing. He has put aside twelve strawberries, a banana and two small tangerines.

Anton: Good choices. Firm fruit, not too ripe. Soft fruit weeps juice, and juice is the enemy of chocolate.

Vera: Could we dip apple slices too?

Anton: Yes, but apple browns quickly. Dip the slices in lemon water first and dry them well. Dried apricots are even easier, because they have no juice to lose at all.

At the Work Table

For about 28 pieces: 100 g dark or milk chocolate, broken into squares, 1 teaspoon mild cooking oil for shine if you like, 12 strawberries, 1 banana cut into 8 thick slices and 2 small tangerines, peeled and split into segments.

Anton: A child washes the strawberries and tangerine segments and dries every piece completely on a clean cloth. The banana is sliced last, just before dipping, so it does not turn brown.

Anton: A child lines a tray with baking paper and sets it beside the bowl.

Anton: Melt it slowly, like snow on a roof. Chocolate that grows too hot turns dull and thick and scorches. A grown-up melts the chocolate and oil in a heatproof bowl set over a pan of barely simmering water, with the pan handle turned in. The bowl must not touch the water. Lift it off with oven gloves, away from the rising steam.

Vera: Or in the microwave, in short bursts of 20 seconds, stirring after each one. Stop while a few lumps remain and stir them smooth.

Anton: The grown-up checks that the chocolate is warm, not hot. Then each child holds a piece of fruit by its stalk or with a small fork, dips it halfway, lets it drip and lays it on the paper. While the chocolate is still wet, a child can scatter a pinch of coconut over the top, if nobody at the table is allergic to it.

Anton: Chill the tray for 20 minutes, until the chocolate is firm. Eat them the same day. Spread any leftover chocolate thinly on the paper and break it into pieces once it has set.

Near the Open Window

Question: Gil asks why the fruit has to be so dry before it goes into the chocolate.

Answer: A single drop of water makes melted chocolate seize. It turns thick and grainy in seconds, like a stream bed drying into cracked mud, and it will not coat anything smoothly again.

Three quick questions. One: Where do cacao pods grow? Two: Why is the banana sliced last? Three: How long does the tray chill?

Answers. One: Straight out of the trunks of trees in hot, rainy lands. Two: So it does not turn brown. Three: Twenty minutes.

Vera: Melt it slowly, like snow on a roof, and it stays glossy. I shall remember that.

Anton: And drink something sharp beside it. A jug of cool water with lemon slices and a handful of mint leaves clears the mouth after chocolate, the way a breeze clears the air after a warm summer shower.

6. Give the Bread Time to Drink

Anton: If you lay a slice of bread in a dish of egg and milk, how long do you think it should stay there? One second? A whole minute? Try to guess before you read on, because the answer decides whether you get something golden or something grey and soggy.

Vera: I would have said a minute. Long enough to drink properly.

Anton: Twenty seconds a side. Give the bread time to drink, but not time to drown. A little dry bread drinks fast, the way parched earth swallows the first rain of autumn.

Sunday, Seven O'Clock

Vera: Hedda is perched on the high stool by the egg basket, holding an egg up to the window as if she could see the yolk through the shell. She asks whether this is a breakfast or a sweet.

Anton: Both. Eggy bread is made in a great many lands, from the wheat fields of the west to the harbour towns of the north. In some old kitchens it was called the bread of poor knights, because even a knight with empty pockets could afford eggs, milk and a stale loaf.

Vera: Then it is the first thing we cook in a pan. I want the children to see how a pan behaves.

Anton: Yes. It is the right recipe for that. The heat is gentle, the cooking is short, and a grown-up stands at the stove the whole time.

The Bakery Yard at Night, Long Ago

Anton: In my second bakery we worked through the night in a big city. Clem loaded the delivery carts in the yard, under the single lamp where the moths circled, and when the last cart left at five, he cooked for all of us.

Anton: He soaked the broken loaves that nobody could sell in a bucket of egg and milk and fried them on an oven tray balanced over the coals. We ate standing up, in our floury aprons, while the sky turned the colour of a pigeon's wing.

Vera: That sounds like the best meal of the day.

Anton: It was. Clem never measured anything, and it was always right.

At the Work Table

For 8 triangles: 2 eggs, 150 ml milk (2/3 cup), 1 tablespoon sugar, 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon, a pinch of salt, 4 thick slices of day-old bread and 15 g butter (1 tablespoon) for the pan.

Anton: A child cracks the eggs on the flat table, not on the edge of the bowl, and fishes out any shell with a larger piece of shell. The eggs go into a wide, shallow dish. The child adds the milk, sugar, cinnamon and salt, and whisks them with a fork until no streaks of white remain.

Anton: A child cuts each slice of bread into two triangles with a table knife.

Anton: A child lays the triangles in the dish for 20 seconds on each side, then lifts them onto a plate. Wash hands after touching raw egg.

Anton: A grown-up heats a frying pan over medium heat with half the butter, handle turned in. The butter foams and spits, so the children stay an arm's length away.

Anton: The grown-up lays the triangles in the pan with a spatula and cooks them for 2 to 3 minutes on each side, adding the rest of the butter halfway, until they are golden and no wet egg shows in the middle.

Vera: Serve them warm with sliced fruit, a spoon of jam or a little sugar.

Vera: Could it be savoury instead?

Anton: Leave out the sugar and cinnamon, add a pinch of pepper, and scatter a little grated cheese over the top once the triangles are turned.

Around the Warm Plates

Question: Hedda asks why the pan is not turned up high, if high heat is faster.

Answer: High heat browns the outside before the egg inside has set, like a summer sun that scorches the leaves while the roots stay cold. Medium heat cooks the whole slice evenly.

Three quick questions. One: How long does each side soak? Two: Who stands at the stove? Three: What tells you the triangles are cooked?

Answers. One: Twenty seconds. Two: A grown-up. Three: They are golden, and no wet egg shows in the middle.

Vera: Hedda has saved one triangle for her grandmother, wrapped in a paper bag like a letter.

Anton: Then she has understood the oldest rule of any kitchen. The best part of cooking is the plate you carry to someone else.

Key Words

Whisk: to beat ingredients quickly with a fork or a wire tool, so that eggs and milk become one smooth liquid.

Soak: to leave food in a liquid until it has drunk some of it in.

Medium heat: a steady middle setting on the stove, hot enough to brown food and gentle enough to cook it through.