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Why does creme brulee' cost as much as cheesecake in a restaurant? Don't tell me it is labor-intensive or the ingredients cost more. I've made both several times -- and it ain't and they don't.
Creme brulee simply looks hard. All it is is milk, sugar, eggs and vanilla baked in a pan of water -- and you can make mass quanities at once. When ready to serve, sprinkle with sugar and set under the broiler for 30 seconds. Done. Boom.
That is not nearly as expensive or difficult as a cheesecake. Just purchasing the mountain of cream cheese and sour cream you need puts you well over the national debt. Add in all the exotic favorings, additions and toppings and you've got enough cash invested to bail out GM. Then you've got to wrestle with the spring-form pan, cut it into neat slices, and decorate each individual plate. Talk about labor-intensive.
Yet, for some reason, when you order both at a restaurant they are considered equal on the bill.
Last night as we celebrated the birthdays of our sons at a fancy restaurant, we all ordered a variety of cheesecakes and creme crulee'.
When the cheesecakes arrrived, they were towering artistic creations of astronomical proportions. The citrus cheesecake was a glorious recreation rivaling an Aztec temple in its hay day. At least five inches tall, the cake sat on swirls of glistening raspberry puree' and chocolate shavings, spirals of candied orange peel exploding from the top like a sun burst. The chocolate version was stacked round layers towering on a plate of spiraled, golden caramel. Drizzles of warm fudge sauce trickled down the sides of the four-inch-tall cake. And on top of this heavenly monument to the gods was a mound of chocolate chips dipped in gold dust that sparkled in the candlelight.
The creme brulee'?
The white ramekins (bowls) were exactly three inches wide and one inch deep. Exactly. I measured them with a tiny measuring tape kept in my purse. The creme brulee filled the bowl a bit more than halfway to the top - making the estimated serving size about 1/4 cup. There was no fresh fruit, no toppings, no whipped cream...not even a pretty but useless sprig of mint. The white ramekin was sitting on a white napkin, on top of a white saucer. Done. Boom.
And when the bill arrived, each dessert cost $6.50.
Next time, I'm ordering the cheesecake.
Creme brulee simply looks hard. All it is is milk, sugar, eggs and vanilla baked in a pan of water -- and you can make mass quanities at once. When ready to serve, sprinkle with sugar and set under the broiler for 30 seconds. Done. Boom.
That is not nearly as expensive or difficult as a cheesecake. Just purchasing the mountain of cream cheese and sour cream you need puts you well over the national debt. Add in all the exotic favorings, additions and toppings and you've got enough cash invested to bail out GM. Then you've got to wrestle with the spring-form pan, cut it into neat slices, and decorate each individual plate. Talk about labor-intensive.
Yet, for some reason, when you order both at a restaurant they are considered equal on the bill.
Last night as we celebrated the birthdays of our sons at a fancy restaurant, we all ordered a variety of cheesecakes and creme crulee'.
When the cheesecakes arrrived, they were towering artistic creations of astronomical proportions. The citrus cheesecake was a glorious recreation rivaling an Aztec temple in its hay day. At least five inches tall, the cake sat on swirls of glistening raspberry puree' and chocolate shavings, spirals of candied orange peel exploding from the top like a sun burst. The chocolate version was stacked round layers towering on a plate of spiraled, golden caramel. Drizzles of warm fudge sauce trickled down the sides of the four-inch-tall cake. And on top of this heavenly monument to the gods was a mound of chocolate chips dipped in gold dust that sparkled in the candlelight.
The creme brulee'?
The white ramekins (bowls) were exactly three inches wide and one inch deep. Exactly. I measured them with a tiny measuring tape kept in my purse. The creme brulee filled the bowl a bit more than halfway to the top - making the estimated serving size about 1/4 cup. There was no fresh fruit, no toppings, no whipped cream...not even a pretty but useless sprig of mint. The white ramekin was sitting on a white napkin, on top of a white saucer. Done. Boom.
And when the bill arrived, each dessert cost $6.50.
Next time, I'm ordering the cheesecake.
