By Stefanie Ellis
Photograph by Katherine Bish
I always get myself into sticky situations. There I was at a business lunch at Five, trying to appease my guest, when all of a sudden he asked to share dessert. Although this is generally not a problem for me, sharing dessert on this day meant sharing the one thing I prefer to avoid—caramel.
But I relented, and placed before us was a demitasse filled with salty caramel mousse, chocolate-cookie streusel and a luscious fudge sauce, served with a scoop of similarly salty peanut ice cream. “Go ahead,” he nudged, allowing me the first bite. I closed my eyes as I timidly brought the spoon to my mouth and ... oh ... my ... goodness. There were flashes of light, a feeling of floating and angels with honeyed halos flitting about. Iwas born again in the land of all things amber and sweet.
I made it back to Five a few days later, only to find another caramel dessert on the menu: a perfectly round caramel parfait resting atop a devil’s-food–cake base. There was a dime-size hole at the top filled with, well, you know. The plate was also drizzled in caramel, and despite my earlier epiphany, I felt that this was a little “in your face.” And it was, eventually, all over my face—gliding sensually across my spoon and onto my lips, which were soon painted in caramel. Five’s pastry chef, Summer Wright, has worked at some sweet spots in New York and Kansas City and so far is the only one who has changed my mind about that delicate mix of sugar and water. How does she do it?
Instead of being cloyingly sweet, Wright’s caramel is seductive and complex. It tastes of smoke and molasses and curls up like a kitten inside the custard, which is infused with caramel instead of sugar, giving it a deeply sophisticated sweetness. I guess you could say I’m stuck on it.
