CREME BROULEE
I’ll tell you a story, if I may,
Of what I did at home today.
I had some time to while away.
And so I made a Creme Broulee,
I’d made it many times before.
But every time there was a flaw.
The first one dropped upon the floor.
I stamped my foot, and then I swore.
I thought I’d try it once again.
And found a recipé quite plain.
I whipped up eggs and sugar cane.
But had to throw it down the drain.
I thought I’d try again once more.
And so I journeyed to the store.
I purchased eggs and cream galore,
Then ran back home and through the door.
I place eight egg yolks in a bowl.
Add third cup of sugar to the whole.
I whip it up and, bless my soul,
"I’ve got it this time", I extol.
Vanilla extract, one teaspoon,
I’ll have this mixture finished soon.
This morning or this afternoon-
I dance and sing a merry tune.
Stir in in two pints of whipping cream,
And put the kettle on to steam.
The oven’s hot. I start to gleam.
Three hundred F is just the scheme.
I pour hot water in the pan,
Then fill six bowls up per the plan.
I place the bowls into the pan,
Into the oven - "You’re the man"!
An hour goes past, it’s cooked just right.
They sit an hour and look so light.
Into the fridge and out of sight,
I let them cool there over night.
With sugar melted on the top,
The task was just about to stop.
I’ve finished what I tried to do.
Here’s Creme Broulee from me to you.