I made a lot of noise about the a-maz-ing Croquembouche I planned to make for the Christmas Day lunch I was going to at a good friend's place ... in typical Graham fashion I completely underestimated how long it would take to put it all together. That, combined with getting some new additions to the household comfortably re-housed (a pair of Red Rump parrots that I gave to Le Husband for Christmas) meant that at 10 o'clock Christmas morning I was frantically making custard from scratch and chocolate ganache-ing the slab of meringue I'd made the night before.
The icing on the cake (in a manner of speaking!) was when I went to fill the profiteroles with the creme patisserie (the egg custard folded with whipped cream). Out comes the brand new piping bag I bought for the occasion (didn't want to take any chances with the old one!) and I managed to fill three or four when - kapow! - the bag bursts. Panicking and squeezing the bag too fast - moi? - never! Must have been a faulty bag!!!
It was spectacular. I had custard in my hair, under one armpit (huh?!), all over the cake, on the floor (dogs enjoyed it), on the walls and every other place possible. I even found some on the kitchen blind the following day. Of course, Le Husband is laughing so hard he almost wets himself, all the while reaching for the camera. I don't think he'll be reaching for the camera again in a hurry. My dreams of spun toffee decoration and toffee angels wings went out the window, and I settled for trusty chocolote drizzles and toasted almonds. I'm not going to tell you how I actually managed to fill the rest of the profiteroles, but it involved the handle of a teaspoon and an excessive amount of swearing.
So ... here it is. The not-quite-Croquembouche-that-nearly-
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!