It might even be the dish of the season.


Let’s examine it more closely,  shall we?

These are the zeppole, or doughnuts.

When made well, they’re as light as could be, having arguably less in common with American doughnuts than with proper sopaipillas.

Since Elise Wiggins fa tutto molto bene, so far as I’ve experienced her cooking (e.g., here & here & here), they were indeed as light as could be; grabbing one was like picking up a soda can you think is full when it’s empty, that weird sense of whoa! The physical universe is not as it seems! The thick coating of crumbed parmesan & herbs & the barest sheen of the oil they were fried in were the heaviest things about them.

Even after they were schmeared with the mousse.

This is the ever so gently flame-glazed stuff,

& it, too, was incredibly light—as light, I think, as I’ve ever come across. And I’ve come across a lot of duck mousse in my time—so often you might suspect me of stalking. Be that as it may, you know when you spread peanut butter on just-made toast & it starts so joyfully to melt? If somehow you could scrape that peanut butter back into a small bowl & whip it, that’s what the texture was like. And the flavor? As though the duck consisted of 1 part butter & cream to every 2 parts itself.

Naturally the jam—whose flavor I didn’t catch but in my heart it was currant, though the Director says it wasn’t—served as thick, sweet-tart ballast.

It was a special when we moaned rather loudly & crassly over it last night, but we were told it’s about to make its debut on the new fall menu. Meet me in the bar the day it does?