Classics exist in all forms of art. In literature you have Pride and Prejudice or Of Mice and Men; in cinema you have the Godfather or Pulp Fiction and in art you have various splodges of majestic paints that I won't go into, mainly because my art teacher saw absolutely no flare in me whatsoever (not that flare existed with my literature or film studying). Nevertheless, they exist in home cooking too, and this billowing, iconic Aussie dessert is surely one of them (or at least in my book, or rather blog, it is, which is fitting given that this is my blog). It's because of the pavlova's timelessness that I don't feel apologetic for writing the recipe again. You should be grateful in any case, given that I'm posting a plethora of variations to adorn my (and yours, and hopefully everyone's) go-to original recipe and secondly because my first post was a mess. It's okay to criticise your own writing people, provided you pay back, and this is me paying back.
However it wasn't all my writing; the basic recipe I go to every time certainly deserves no criticism- I have to bow down to only the Australian food writer Stephanie Alexander without whom this post would be named simply 'Pavlova' and wouldn't be nearly as good.
Back in the old days where I lacked the skills of proofreading, I attributed the name Alexander to my pavlova withal because of a bulky friend of mine called Alex, who's tanned skin and rugged form reminded me of the meringue's. He's only got bulkier since.
This is the classic Pavlova recipe I always turn to, and it's what I consider my Summer variety and I would top it with tropical fruits accordingly. For more info on toppings and whatnot, see variations below.
4 egg whites *almost always these come from when I use egg yolks in a recipe and I've then emptied out the whites into plastic tubs and froze them. I should note that this can get excessive and obsessive if you're a neurotic waste-averse person like me. When my freezer got too stuffed with them at one point I had to start emptying egg whites straight into the sink but these days I need to restock, so have continued the practice of freezing of them. Remember to label the tubs too, or you'll have no idea how many whites you have in a bag. Generally, I go for two per bag*
250g caster sugar
Pinch salt
2 tsp cornflour
1 tsp white wine vinegar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
For the topping:
500ml double cream
Fruit of your choice (again see below)
Preheat your oven to 180○C. Line a baking sheet with enough parchment to cover it snugly.
If you have the cut side of a lemon lingering about in your fridge, wipe around the inside of your mixing bowl (which ideally should be metal) to kill any grease. If you're lemonless then use a tiny dab of white wine vinegar on some kitchen paper. Using an electric whisk whip the egg whites to soft peaks, then gradually add your sugar about 1 tbsp at a time until the sugar reaches a small enough mound to pour it in gently, until the meringue reaches firm peaks (or as firm as you're gonna get, it depends on the egg whites, how long they've been kept frozen and how clean your hands were when you separated them). Sprinkle the cornflour and vinegar on top of the meringue then fold it in, no need to be hyperbolically gentle or fold it within and inch of the mixture's life.
Use the messy whisk to dab corners on the baking sheet to stick the parchment down, then tumble the meringue on top. Use a spatula, which is also the best tool for folding the meringue together, to smooth the top. Since you're going to (yes you are) be inverting this pavlova it's best to have the top as flat as possible and the sides fairly angular.
Place in the oven then immediately reduce the temperature to 150 for 30 minutes, then reduce further to 120 for the final 45 minutes, but do check slightly shy of there. If the meringue is undercooked it will be far too crumbly and if it's overcooked it will be too dark and secretes syrupy gel from its belly. Turn the oven off and leave the meringue to cool completely in there, though if the meringue is overcooked you will of course need to remove it from the oven immediately. The base from this point, can be done ahead and even left to cool in the oven itself overnight.
Invert the pavlova onto a cake stand or large plate. However if you find the pavlova much too crumbly for this transfer, pile the cream directly on the top of the pavlova on the tin (it's not the end of the world.) Whip the cream to very, very soft peaks and let it ooze creamily over the top of the pavlova. If you've kept it soft enough you should scarcely need to spread it, it will swathe itself. Top exuberantly with your chosen fruit and it's ready to serve. You can top the pavlova in advance easily but the fruit begins to wheep a little as it stands; plus if you're serving this at a party it can be nice to escape the buzz for a moment for a little quiet assembly.
Variations:
My usual fruit I go for to top the pavlova is passion fruit. Use about 4 fruits that are nice and wrinkly and ripe, cut in half then disembowell them all over the cream. Fruits with decent tang are best for pavlova to cut through the sweetness of the marshmallowy base, such as pomegranate, pineapple chunks, good sour clementines or red and black currants. Whilst I generally eschew a fruit salad atop a pavlova, I love my peach and lychee pavlova which involves draining a tin of peach slices, arranging them on the cream then tearing up the flesh of about 10-15 peeled fresh or canned lychees over them. These two fruits can be a little too sweet, especially out of a can, so consider squeezing the juice of 1/2 a lime over them.
Those variations I all consider my summery ones, though my peach and lychee version has a surprising Christmassiness and its canned fruits overcome any seasonal issues, but for later on I have a more wintry berry pavlova. That involves replacing 100g of the caster sugar with light muscovado sugar, using red wine vinegar in place of white and sprinkling 2 tsp cinnamon along with the cornflour in the base. For the fruit topping use 500g frozen summer fruits, combine with 3 tbsp granulated sugar in a pan, bring to a boil then simmer until the sugar dissolves and the red juices leave a line when one is drawn with your finger on the back of the wooden spoon. Leave to cool then stir in 150g raspberries or strawberries and 2-3 tbsp creme de cassis, sloe gin, chambord or any other suitable liqueur. When entirely cold, tumble the berry compote over the cream-duveted pavlova.
Pavlova can be a gratifying way of using any number of leftover egg whites, in which case use 60g sugar per egg white and use mild logic with the cornflour, vinegar and vanilla. For example If you have 5 egg whites, 2 tsp cornflour will be fine, but if you have 8 egg whites double the quantities of everything else, and if you have just 2, don't bother to make a pavlova.
This ratio works too with regular meringues, again just use 60g caster sugar per egg white, omit the cornflour and vinegar but keep the vanilla and pipe rounds of whatever size onto a lined baking sheet. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour at an oven that is just 140○C but don't leave them to cool in the oven, remove them once they're cooked to keep their shape as well as possible- for meringues this is more important than chewiness in the centre. These make a fabulously simple dessert with some whipped cream and berries- you could go in for the compote that goes over the wintry pavlova.
