This photo was taken mid-dinner party, which is exactly how a souffle must arrive, straight from the oven to the table, so that your guests can see it in all its puffed up glory.
Because of the mid-dinner party setting, the melee of a post-meal table is visible around the souffle pan, as is the little-more-than-candle-light by which we were dining. By the time it was dished out and draped in a silky sheet of creme anglaise, there was no stopping me for another photo. You'll just have to imagine the shiny sauce, white but flecked with the tiny brilliance of vanilla seeds.
What was dinner, you ask? Homemade sweet potato ravioli and a roasted chicken. And lots of wine. And a bottle of port while the souffle cooked. And lots of raucous laughter.
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