Uh oh. I made creme fraiche the other day. It may become a problem. It was super easy. All you have to do is heat a half-pint of cream to 80 degrees, add two tablespoons of buttermilk, mix well and let sit overnight. I used a mason jar. The first time I made it, the yield was a thicker cream, and it didn't really look like creme fraiche to me. I was a little disappointed. However, cream had been on sale, so I had a few back up pints. You have to be prepared! When you already have creme fraiche, you can use the last bit as a starter for the next batch. Which I did. This time it came out perfect--thick and firm, with some bubbles on top. Like this:
So, I've been going a little bananas on it, even using it in my morning bowl of brown rice, which sort of defeats the purpose of eating brown rice for breakfast, now doesn't it? But here it is, working wonders for a simple pasta, binding up all the things I needed to use up in the fridge in a nutty, creamy dressing.
And here it is on some strawberry shortcake. I could have whipped it up, but I didn't feel like bothering. Stiff peaks or no, it's still heaven. I'm a sucker for strawberries and cream. It's the only way, the only way to be.
And here it is on some strawberry shortcake. I could have whipped it up, but I didn't feel like bothering. Stiff peaks or no, it's still heaven. I'm a sucker for strawberries and cream. It's the only way, the only way to be.
Oops, sorry about the Cure lyrics. That's a shout out for my girl, Dane. She and I were horrible goths when we were kids, and we were freaks for Head on the Door. I still think it's a great album. One year for her birthday, I made her a picnic on the beach, which we had as the sun went down, as per goth regulations, and it featured one of our favorite lyrics: strawberries and cream. It might have been ten years later and she got me back on my birthday, but this time it was on the Oregon coast. I always think of that when I eat strawberries and cream. Even if it's really creme fraiche.
