Marie-Hélène's Apple Cake

I don't know who Marie-Hélène is other than she has way too many strange letter/characters in her name that aren't on my keyboard. When I signed up for French Friday's with Dorie I knew I would be challenged in the kitchen to make amazing things outside my usual comfort zone but I had no idea I would also have to memorize an ascii table! Anyway, whoever she is she is Dorie's friend and I must say that Dorie describers her to sound remarkably alike my now legendary former acquaintance, Giselle. She who I have imagined might have cooked Gerard's Mustard Tart in her country house kitchen while sipping wine and never once looking at a recipe card. I had to laugh when Dorie revealed that her good friend Marie-Hélène doesn't cook with one either and doesn't even seem to know what she puts in her very own Apple Cake!

Can't you just see Giselle and Marie-Hélène strolling back through the streets of Paris after a day's worth of shopping at expensive clothing stores and picking up nick nacks at the flea market? Their usual custom was to stop at Fauchon for a box of macarons to take home and sip with strong cups of pressed coffee as they showed off and gloated about their purchases to each other. This time however, Marie-Hélène would suggest that instead she whip (from memory) up an apple cake! And what an apple cake it would be. Giselle would have to think up a non recipe pastry of her own the next time. After all, who could go to Fauchon again after this cake?


(Geesh. I have to stop writing posts when I'm hopped up on cold medicine. )

So here is to you Marie-Hélène! Your name gives me chuckles but you make one heck of an apple cake! I still wish I could casually throw together cakes and tarts without the benefit of a recipe but in the meantime, I'm glad to have Dorie's books for reference! This one will definitely get a replay and who knows? I might just get this one memorized!

As you know, we're not supposed to publish the recipes for FFWD but Ms. G has already leaked the recipe to Epicurious and they have posted it here. Leftovers make an amazing breakfast sweet with coffee by the way so don't let your guests take the extra slices home with them!

Not So Poached Salmon with Capers and Herbs

Readers of this blog know that I all about The Ina when it comes to kitchen inspiration.  I can't live by The Ina alone, however.  Just imagine how much butter that would take!    Lately, I've had to look outside East Hampton and its zany cast of characters for less zaftig inspirations. While French Friday's with Dorie keeps me alternately inspired and nudges my comfort zone a bit, I still  long for more "regular food" inspiration now and then.

What I mean is the basic cooking technique and skills stuff, regular comfort foods, and such. I guess I feel the need to "up my game" with the"regular dishes"  I have have either already made once and forgot or just never even tried because they seemed...well...regular. (See "Carrot Soup".)

This desire had me looking once again at the stack of Cook's Illustrated magazines piled up next to my bed. I have never once looked at a Cook's Illustrated before bed so I don't know why this location became their home.  Each and every one of them looks nearly identical to me so even if I were actually interested in something specific I would more than likely never be able to find it again.

In one spotted this technique for poaching fish that isn't really poaching at all.  The fish is cooked above the waterline and any flavor that is lost to the water is reduced back and used in the herbed topping. It they are good at anything at all Cook's Illustrated good at parsing food recipes and then coming up with interesting variations on technique to get more consistent results.  This particular gem of a technique is the perfect example of where they excel. Where some cooking magazines and books are about being innovative and decorative, CI is about science and technique.

The legendary Escoffier must have understood the perils of poaching salmon when he recommended poaching it in a Court-Bouillon. Court-Bouillon is just a fancy French name for flavored poaching liquid. so if you've ever added vinegar to the water for a poached egg, congratulations, you have mastered the Court-Bouillon! Often it contains wine, aromatic spices and herbs, vegetables, lemon juice and anything else with flavor that the chef wishes to impart on the item being poached. Court Bouillon exists to add flavor where the poaching might remove it and then carry it out through the kitchen drain.

Not so here with this inventive method. The flavors never leave the finished product so you don't need much addition to the steaming water. The flavor from the salmon will get reduced after cooking and then added back with the chopped herbs on top of the dish.

This one is a keeper and I'll be doing it again soon. Perhaps I'd better go visit those magazines again to see what else I had passed over?



Not So Poached Salmon with Capers and Herbs
(adapted from Cooks Illustrated)

• 2 lemons
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley leaves , stems reserved
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon leaves , stems reserved
• 2 small shallots , minced (about 4 tablespoons)
• 1/2 cup dry white wine
• 1/2 cup water
• 1 skinless salmon fillet (1 3/4 to 2 pounds), about 1 1/2 inches at thickest part, white membrane
• removed, fillet cut crosswise into 4 equal pieces (see note)
• 2 tablespoons capers , rinsed and roughly chopped
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1. Cut top and bottom off 1 lemon; cut into 8 to ten 1 /4-inch-thick slices. Cut remaining lemon into 8 wedges and set aside. Arrange lemon slices in single layer across bottom of 12-inch skillet. Scatter herb stems and 2 tablespoons minced shallots ev enly over lemon slices. Add wine and water.

2. Place salmon fillets in skillet, skinned-side down, on top of lemon slices. Set pan ov er high heat and bring liquid to simmer. Reduce heat to low, cov er, and cook until sides are opaque but center of thickest part is still translucent (or until instant-read thermometer inserted in thickest part registers 125 degrees), 1 1 to 16 minutes. Remove pan from heat and, using spatula, carefully transfer salmon and lemon slices to paper towel-lined plate and tent loosely with foil.

3. Return pan to high heat and simmer cooking liquid until slightly thickened and reduced to 2 tablespoons, 4 to 5 minutes. Meanwhile, combine remaining 2 tablespoons shallots, chopped herbs, capers, honey , and olive oil in medium bowl. Strain reduced cooking liquid through fine-mesh strainer into bowl with herb-caper mixture, pressing on solids to extract as much liquid as possible. Whisk to combine; season with salt and pepper to taste.

4. Season salmon lightly with salt and pepper. Using spatula, carefully lift and tilt salmon fillets to remove lemon slices. Place salmon on serv ing platter or indiv idual plates and spoon vinaigrette over top. Serv e, passing reserved lemon wedges separately.

Hachis Parmentier

If you do an image search of Google on this week's French Friday's with Dorie assignment Hachis Parmentier (AH_she Par ment AY) and also on Shepard's Pie, you will see that these two dishes are essentially the same idea...or not...depending on your ethnicity. (Go ahead, click the links...I've done the work for you!) If you are English you would be keenly aware that Shepard's Pie is made with lamb. It would be quite correct to put veggies in it. The Brits call the beef version of this dish Cottage Pie. Here in the US where we seem to have less 'rules' it seems to be made with whatever you have on hand, even turkey. As you must know by now, the French version will certainly taste better for no other reason that it is French and they insist on such things. Dorie has suggested to us subtly that if you were thinking of adding in vegetables (such as from the stock you were simmering) the French would rather you didn't as that is not "traditional". (These days, especially with the Chunnel putting them within a few minutes by train of each other they strive for even more ways to differentiate themselves from the British!) I do happen to think that this particular rule is well played by The French. This is meant to be simple dish of simple pleasures and if you start putting too much crap in it you will complicate things. (Besides, the French would also just laugh at anyone who thought adding a carrot that had been boiled out for over an hour would actually make the dish better!) A quick turn in the kitchen to take what you have on hand, and turn it into a tasty, easy, reinvention that wreaks of casual elegance and personal style. Having written that, I can't help but think that this dish is some sort of French metaphor for their entire philosophy of life.

At its core, this dish is about working your leftovers into something marvelous. (How can this not be some life lesson in wrapped in a recipe?) Getting down to my FFWD assignment I did feel a little silly tackling this one 'from scratch'. How many dishes call for you to make leftovers from scratch? This one did and while it was well worth the trouble I suspect the dish is just as good using leftover beef, ground beef, beef stock, etc. that you have on hand.

Suffering from really low light in my house once the sun goes down I just couldn't make this dish look as good as it tasted given I was forced to photograph with existing light. Getting the photo this week was the hardest part of the assignment!

Hachis Parmentier

As usual, the group has asked us not to post the recipe in the hopes that you will buy the book. Dorie herself however released the recipe during her interview with Poor Man's Feast and you can find it here.

My own personal kitchen notes on this one remind me that I did not use a bouillon cube as suggested but instead I added a glop (a glop is equal to a heaping tablespoon in my parlance) of beef demi-glace to the broth just as the meat was finishing its prep cook and the broth. When eating I could tell this was a great idea as the beefy flavor profile was perfect and held up nicely to the Italian pork sausage that was used. Also, I ran the potatoes through a ricer which gave them a very delicate texture that seemed a bit too fine for this dish. (I was probably the only one at the table to give this a thought, however.) I think this was a step I didn't really need and could have just done a regular whipping given the hearty nature of this dish. Do a lot of tasting along the way to adjust the seasoning levels as you go so you don't end up with a bland dish. Nobody likes that!

Update: Dorie made this on NPR's All Things Considered today (11/1/10). The link to the story and the audio is here.

Peach Crisp

I ran into some "rare late summer peaches" at the farmer's market that were surprisingly sweet even though it was rainy and drizzly this weekend. It made me wonder just how 'local' this local produce is? I really hate to thin our farmer's market is a fraud but these peaches were REALLY good.

I decided it would be best not to think too much about it lest my skepticism prevent me from enjoying the good taste of peach one last time. Who ever thought of enjoying a peach crisp while pumpkins are on display at the market? Frankenpeaches? Check out the great red color that came out after cooking!

This crisp recipe is great for most fruits. When I make a crisp I rarely add sugar to the base fruit. These freaky peaches were sweet enough to skip it. I just don't know WHERE they came from? I wish I asked more questions.


Peach Crisp

• 8-10 peaches
• 6 T butter
• 1 t lemon juice
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1/4 cup oats (optional)
• 3/4 cup brown sugar
• 1/8 t nutmet
• 1/4 t salt
• 1/4 t cinnamon (optional)
• 1/4 cup walnut pieces (optional)

Slice peaches with skin into 6 slices and toss with lemon juice. Mix nutmeg with 1 tablespoon flour and toss over peaches to coat. Set aside.

Make the crisp by combining the remaining flour, salt, and brown sugar. Mix in oats if using. Cut in butter wit a pastry cutter or fingers until you have small pieces and crisp is 'mealy'.

Put peaches in a shallow ceramic or glass pan and sprinkle crisp over the top. Bake 35-40 minutes in a preheated 350 degree oven until soft and top is browned.

Vietnamese Spicy Chicken Noodle Soup Venturing Out of the Comfort Zone with Dorie!

I've been thinking a lot lately about "comfort zones". You know, those states of behavior wherein one operates in an "anxiety-neutral space". I know it even sounds boring but we all do it. You get to cruise along at a steady output comfortable in the knowledge that while what you do lacks in challenge it makes up for in steady, satisfactory results. We tend to cling to things we know we do well when faced with other alternatives that might seem daunting or unsure. This behavior goes on in all areas of our lives and I have confronted it many times in my personal life once I have been able to correctly tag it as a comfort zone issue. Once I recognize it I usually immediately go into challenge mode and head it off straight on. There was the time I realized I was in a subtlety abusive relationship. I saw that I was clinging to it as something 'known' was more comfortable than the supposed insecurity of the unknown future, 'single state'. Once I saw it that way my bags were packed and I never looked back. Venturing out of that zone turned out fantastic and showed me that there were big rewards for accepting short term discomfort! So when I hear the phrase "comfort zones" my mind immediately goes to this type of areas where I frequently face my own fear of discomfort such as relationships, career, casual discussions involving professional sports, etc.

So what does this have to do with French Friday's With Dorie? (We are the group cooking along together, week after week, all the recipes in Dorie Greenspan's new book "Around My French Table".) For the last two weeks I have perused the various (and beautiful!) posts from my fellow Doristas and invariably I see the phrase "outside my comfort zone" uttered in the context of a particular week's recipe. Never mind that most of these come from quite accomplished bakers from Dorie's other web clatch, Tuesdays with Dorie, and that most of these bloggers can roll a pie crust or pipe a frosting as good as any of them! (During gougeres week I must have seen the phrase used at least two dozen times!) "How silly!", I thought. " How dramatic can you be?", I opined. "Its just a recipe!", I declared.

When I saw this week's recipe I was underwhelmed. I'm not a big Asian food cook. I think I once made lettuce wraps and that was a long time ago. While they turned out great, I think they were more authentic to P.F. Changs than Xiānggǎng. "I'll just sit this one out", I thought to myself. "Besides, it's not even really French is it...I never cook Asian food! It's outside my comf...." Oooph. Did I just say that? Uh oh. Did I just use "comfort zone" for a simple recipe? So true to form (and as a result of years of conditioning shaped by countless therapy sessions) I realized that my behavior was on the brink of being modified due to a fear of temporary discomfort and anxiety at the expense of long term gain. At that point had no choice but to set out and attack the recipe with gusto. (And speaking of comfort zones, I had to brave not one, but two Asian markets to get all the ingredients!)

So here it is! And like just as all the other trips outside my zone it ended with the same sense of accomplishment and high reward. This soup was as truly delicious as it was easy to make. Supposedly it is a hybrid of two types of Vietnamese soups, pho ga, a chick broth based soup, and la sa ga, a coconut based curry soup. Dorie skips the curry and combines the two into one noodly, chickeny brothy bowl of great taste. Next time I may just mix it back in as Dorie explains how to do. (I'm just that comfortable now!) I served it with all of the suggested mix-ins: Thai basil, bean sprouts, limes, cilantro, hoisin sauce, chili oil, etc. so people could create to their own tastes and spicy tolerance levels. The broth is delicious but it is the additions that make this soup so do try to have them all available. (That is where you will get most of the 'spicey' in this dish. ) My family seemed to have a lot of fun with this and its a neat trick as when family can essentially customize and flavor their soup, the likelihood that they all will like it increases. It worked here! Huge hit!

I'm skipping the process photos this week because, well... they weren't very attractive and I don't want to scare you off! (Any Doristas out there reading this will know what I mean!) And since we aren't supposed to post recipes in the hopes that you will buy the book yourselves (and you really should) I will have to promise for now to update here if I find a link to it elsewhere. But if you must have the recipe, leave a comment here or contact me and I'll be sure to get one to you. But only if you promise to cook outside your comfort zone!

Creamy Roasted Carrot Soup

Sometimes the obvious thought will swoop in and save the day.

make carrot soup at least a half dozen times each year. Its one of those things I do without thinking. It was one of the first soups I ever learned to make and it was one of the first dishes I ever started experimenting with liberally with in my effort to 'play chef'. I just never seem to get tired of it probably because I never seem to make it the same twice. Carrot soup takes to just about any seasoning imaginable. Dill, curry, ginger, thyme, herbes de Provence, whatever. My dear friend Michael prefers his carrot soup with parsnips and coriander and he makes it so well it has become something of a trademark for him. (At least its his cooking trademark. He has other trademarks as well...to be sure.) Recently I got to thinking about why I was spending so much time figuring out new and exciting spice combos for even more batches of carrot soup. So I asked myself don't carrots taste good on their own?

It sounds obvious now but I never thought to roast them first until now. I should have. As a side dish I prefer just about every other veggie roasted. Asparagus, cauliflower, even broccoli tastes better to me after a quick roast in a 500 degree oven a la Barbara Kafka. If you are ever in the mood for a quick carrot soup that actually tastes like carrots, try this. No extra spices needed....although next time I might slip in a little tarragon, my favorite herb!


Roasted Carrot Soup

• 2 lbs Carrots, peeled and sliced into pieces
• 1 onion, halved and sliced
• 2 teaspoons olive oil
• salt to taste
• 4 small cloves garlic
• 1/4 cup chardonnay
• 1 bay leaf
• 3 cups chicken broth
• 1/2 cup milk or soy milk (1/2 and 1/2 will work too.)
• ground pepper

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Toss carrots and onion with oil and 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Put in a single layer on a baking sheet and roast in the middle of the oven until carrots are browned and softened. 25-30 minutes. Transfer roasted veggies to a saucepan and cook over medium heat until carrots soften further and dry out a bit. 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook until garlic releases flavors. Add wine, bay leaf. When wine reduces by half (this will be quick) add in broth and bring to a slow boil. Reduce heat and let simmer for 5 minutes.

Puree in a blender or use immersion blender until smooth. add in milk or half-and-half and then correct seasons to taste with salt and pepper. Serve garnished with sour cream and chives.

Gerard's Mustard Tart

I have this fantasy/memory playing out in my head about French cooking and how it is prepared. Its seeds were planted when I took a family vacation to France as a teenager. Our family was hosted by a business associate of my father and his very elegant wife. Their names were Paul and Giselle. To understand Giselle you had to pronounce her name as she pronounced it: "zhee ZELL". My California ears couldn't get enough of the sound of her name and I would try to come up with as many ways as I could to either get her to say it again or say it myself so I could practice. They had a lovely home in Paris but my fantasy was kicked off during the weekend we were guests at their country house. The house came complete with renovated barn, flower garden (traditional and cut flower annexes) and a huge vegetable garden in which my fantasy would find its ultimate fuel.

Paul's voice and accent sounded just like Maurice Chevalier's and Giselle just had to be herself to one of the most elegant woman I had ever seen before. I could barely understand a

word they said but it didn't matter. If your only experience of them was what we had seen in Paris then you would have thought their farmhouse was just for show. Then they went to work. While entertaining us and pouring for us the most amazing Pinot Noir they went about cooking our afternoon meal. Paul (the businessman I had seen just two days earlier dressed in an impeccable business suit disappeared to the hen house to kill and prepare a chicken while Giselle (who clearly was no stranger to Hermes) put on her big sun hat and garden gloves, headed to the vegetable garden to harvest the rest of our lunch. Then in front of our very eyes the duo crafted the most amazing, fresh lunch without ever once checking a recipe or measuring an ingredient. Whatever it was they were making for us, it was as if they had done it so many times that it was second nature to them.

Giselle went about setting the table (while all sorts of things were cooking in the kitchen) with all sorts of amazing farm house type plates, napkins and cut flowers. I don't remember what it was she made but when I saw this tart that Dorie chose for us to cook for this weeks French Friday's with Dorie it conjured up my images of this lunch. It symbolizes so much of what I remember about casual French cooking - Giselle style. Simple ingredients, great taste, and a casual elegance once presented at the table. If I could ever commit a recipe to memory (I just can never seem to) it would be this one. I would then make it for friends in front of their very eyes while sipping wine, laughing, and setting the table and saying wonderful things in French.

Gerard's Mustard Tart

adapted from Dorie Greenspan's "Around My French Table"

My crust making experience for this dish is posted here. The rest of it was remarkably simple. Instead of the crème fraiche the recipe suggests I used a mix of heavy cream and a dollop of sour creme. It is the mustard that prevails here so don't get hung up on this creamy ingredient should you make this. In fact, don't get hung up on any ingredient if you make this! Giselle would not worry so neither should you.

• 3 carrots, trimmed and peeled
• 3 thin leeks, white and light green parts. Cut lengthwise in half and washed
• 2 rosemary sprigs
• 3 large eggs
• 6 T creme fraiche or heavy cream.
• 2 T Dijon style mustard
• 2 T grainy style mustard
• Kosher salt to taste
• 1 9 1/2 tart shell from your preferred recipe.

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Line a bakingsheet with a

silicone baking mat or parchment paper.

The carrots and leeks need to be cut into slender batons or sticks so cut the carrots lengthwise in half, then place the halves cut side down on the cutting board and cut crosswise in half or cut into chunks about 3 inches long. Your carrots will tell you how they want to be cut! but they end up close to 1/8- to ¼-inch-thick matchsticks. Cut the leek sin the same way.

Pour in enough water into your steaming basket to come almost up to the steamer, cover, and

bring to a boil. Drop the carrots, leeks, and 1 rosemary sprig into the basket, cover, and steam until the vegetables are tender enough to be pierced easily with the tip of a knife, 10 to 15 minutes. Drain the vegetables and pat them dry; discard the rosemary sprig.

In a medium bowl, whisk the eggs together with the crème fraîche or heavycream. Add the mustard, season with salt and white pepper. Taste and see if you want to add a little more of one or the other mustards but be careful to not make things too salty!

Put the tart pan on the lined baking sheet and pour the filling into the crust.Arrange the vegetables over the filling — they can go in any which way but Gerard and Giselle would both prefer they were arranged attractively! Spokes coming out from the center of the tar

t would be nice! Top with the remaining rosemary sprig and give the vegetables a sprinkling of salt and a couple of turns of the peppermill.

Bake the tart for about 30 minutes, or until it is uniformly puffed and lightly browned here and there and a knife inserted into the center of the custard comes out clean. Transfer the tart to a cooling rack and let it rest for 5 minutes before removing the sides of the pan. Serve hot, warm, or at room temperature (or lightly chilled).

Put away this recipe, pour a glass of wine and pretend you did it all from memory.

( Note: In July 2011 this post was awarded "1st Place" at the 2011 Orange County Fair in the "Personal Food Blog Post" category in the Culinary Arts division. Yeah, I didn't know you could enter a blog post in a county fair but apparently you can. )

Fig Balsamic Ice Cream

The love affair with the ice cream maker continues... I've been awash in figs the last few weeks trying to take advantage of the wonderful Black Mission and Honey figs that have been showing up at our local farmers market. Mostly they have been destined to become versions of the same fig jam we made last year to give to friends during Christmas. (I have a new recipe to foist on friends coming soon to this blog, stay tuned!) Last week's batch got a much different treatment as I stretched my husband's notion of ice cream just a bit. The idea of vinegar in ice cream might strike you as odd but the knowledge that a drizzling of balsamic on fresh berries i enhances much of their flavor is now pretty well known. This just takes it a bit further. Its not the kind of ice cream flavor you want too eat several scoops of all by itself (I might!) but a small amount served with berries is extremely elegant and refreshing! And just look how pretty fig ice cream is!

Fig Balsamic Ice Cream

2 lbs black mission figs
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
6 tablespoons water
Juice of 1 lemon
1/2 cup white sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon whole peppercorns, wrapped in a sachet.

Remove stems from figs and quarter them. Put figs in a medium, non reactive saucepan with, water, peppercorns, and sugars. Cover and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally until figs are tender and mixture gets jam like. Stir in vinegar and remove from heat, let cool. Remove peppercorns. Once cool, add mixture to blender and pulse. Add cream and lemon juice to taste then puree mixture until thoroughly blended and smooth.

Chill mixture thoroughly in refrigerator and them freeze in ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions.

Crust

I'm not one to back away from a cooking challenge but the one skill that continues to vex me is crust. No matter how many times I make it I just never really warm up to the task. I suppose I would do just about anything not to have to make it. Its messy, forces me to dig up the food processor out of the back of the cabinet, and you have to plan way in advance since dough needs to be chilled to some perfect yet unattainable temperature for optimum shaping. For these reasons you will rarely ever get a pie at my house unless it by a very special request or I am especially driven to make a certain pie or tart I've seen in a magazine or on a blog. It is a rarity. Just how many crusts have you seen on this blog? None! For those occasions where a pi would be the perfect ending to meal I would certainly talk myself into a crumble or crisp instead to avoid this crust making chore. It is quite unfortunate that store bought crust is pretty easy to detect because I would certainly use it and hide the boxes in the trash and be done with it. Now that I'm doing the French Friday's with Dorie, I know I will be called upon to make it a few dozen times so I'm trying to psych myself up for it. I don't have a very large kitchen and I just always imagine the best crusts come from large kitchens with huge marble counters that can be floured in order to roll out perfect crusts. (Right Ina?)

This week we are making a savory tart for French Friday's with Dorie and that means I have to step up once more and make one. On paper, the directions seem easy enough and I do have all the right crust making equipment. Food processor, rolling pin, high priced non stick tart pans. I even have a fancy silicon crust pad to prevent sticking while it measures out the proper diameter. (It works but its also kinda creepy if you ask me.) What would Ina think? In practice my crusts never seem to go perfectly and my perfectionist nature just can't be appeased with my doughy crust output. The latest result is presented here for your examination even thought I would hardly call it blog worthy. Perhaps you crust mavens out there can chime in and tell me what it is I should be doing ? I pulsed, mixed, chilled, and rolled but my crust still turned into a patchwork of pieces. Is it supposed to pull away from the pan like this? Our tart calls for the crust to be 'partially cooked' but that process shrunk up the diameter and left a few glaring imperfections. Next time I will increase the ingredient amounts and make a bit thicker dough round until I the hang of it. Despite my bitching, it did taste great!

In the end I always know that a crust can be very forgiving once you get it filled with whatever delight you are intending for it. I just wish I didn't have to count on that so much.