week 10: breaking hearts and hollandaise

March 9, 2009

hollandaise: this important mother sauce and its derivatives have improved the flavor of many a vegetable, egg, fish fillet and grilled meat preparation, despite an immorally creamy reputation. still, the word hollandaise instills fear into the hearts of young culinarians everywhere for its tendency to break (its emulsion, that is), which is followed inevitably by the breaking of the cook’s heart as he sees all his fine whisking and emulsifying go to waste. there is hope, however, as a broken sauce can be mended, at the slight expense of some richness and flavor.

but before we ruin our hollandaise, let’s see how it’s made.

everyone’s notebooks were at the ready for the hollandaise demo. in a large, stainless steel bowl, Chef combined three egg yolks with a little water and vinegar, placing the mixture on top of a saucepan with a few inches of slightly bubbling water in it. and then the marathon of whisking began:

the mixture started out a canary yellow color, and as Chef whisked, small, frothy bubbles began to appear.

“the secret of hollandaise is the cooking of the egg yolk,” Chef said. “you must not overcook those egg yolks.” gradually, as the yolks progressively thickened and my arm grew tired at the sight of constant, vigorous whisking, the sauce began to emulsify and soften in color until it resembled custard. “when you start to see the bottom, you know it’s right,” Chef said. indeed, streaks of silver were peeking through the creamy trails of yellow sauce along the bottom of the bowl.

but Chef wasn’t finished yet, first squeezing the juice of half a lemon into the mixture. he had several ounces of melted butter on the side, sitting at about 110 degrees F. he slowly whisked in about three ounces in a thin stream. “you want to introduce the butter slowly,” he cautioned. “myself, i’m going to put a little more.” several extra ounces later, the sauce began to take on the familiar “hollandaisy” yellow we know and love when it comes to the breakfast table sliding down the sides of our eggs benedict. and it tasted, as expected, immorally and wonderfully creamy.

naturally my sauce broke at station because i had let the bain-marie (warm water bath) beneath it get too hot, which caused the yolks to coagulate and the sauce to take on a greasy, grainy–almost lumpy appearance. however, overly warm hollandaise is not the only small catastrophe one faces while holding the sauce after it’s finished. if the sauce gets too cold, the butter will solidify, likewise making the sauce unusable and unappealing. this is why hollandaise must be held within a specific temperature range of 41 to 135 degrees F over the bain-marie if it is to survive the hour and a half it is allotted to sit.

luckily, Chef demonstrated how to rescue my lumpy sauce, first by letting it cool slightly, then whisking in about a tablespoon of cool water from the corner of the bowl inward. water is also the savior of a cold hollandaise: slowly reintroducing a little warm water will bring it back to life.

when Chef made an appearance at our sunday cooking session that week, he again was tasked with rescuing a broken hollandaise, this time in blue jeans. always a chef nonetheless.