Who doesn’t love a dramatic dessert? Pirouetting near the top tier of the over-the-top dinner finales, just below things that are set aflame, is the Pavlova.
There is dispute over the birthplace of this airy, fruit-laden miracle, just as rumor surrounded the birth of the Russian prima ballerina, choreographer and ballet company founder for which it is named. But the toe shoe fits, as the ambitious Anna Pavlova, who toured the world in the early 1900s, was fragile in health, build and beauty, supposedly too frail for more athletic moves but renowned for her ethereal, expressive performances.
Likewise, the Pavlova — a cloud of whipped meringue baked to a sweet, porcelain crust and topped with whipped cream and fruit — is a showstopper and drama queen, easily shattered and with endless costume options.
It’s a lovely way to showcase fresh fruit while we’ve got it, like farmers market strawberries and peaches. The meringue, a basic French version, allows for flavoring, as well. The nutty, earthy flavor of matcha powder balances the sweetness of meringue and pairs well with strawberries, but there’s room to experiment.
Once you’ve whipped up your sweetened and matcha-boosted meringue, you spoon it onto a baking sheet lined with parchment, shape it into a circle and bake it at low temperature for a little more than an hour. After shutting off the oven and letting it dry out in there for another couple hours, it needs only topping with whipped cream and berries.
Though it doesn’t include a Pavlova recipe, my Cook’s Illustrated Baking book offered some solid advice on meringue in general. A little cornstarch, for example, allows you to dial back the sweetness from candy shop to dessert-level without losing structural integrity. And adding the sugar to your egg whites in a steady stream allows it to dissolve without thwarting the stiff peaks you’re aiming for.
Other bakers and cruel experience have taught me more. First, approach egg separation with the seriousness of a lab technician. Use three small bowls: one to separate each egg over before depositing the yolks in the second bowl and the whites in the third. This is important because a single drop of yolk will sink your meringue. It’s far less emotionally taxing to set aside one egg ruined by an errant bit of shell than to watch a yellow spot of doom hit all your separated whites. (It will always be the last egg, too.)
Caster sugar, if you have it on hand or can give regular sugar a few pulses in a Cuisinart to make some, will dissolve more easily into the egg whites, but don’t sweat it — most recipes don’t specify it anyway.
Sifting the cornstarch and matcha together keeps little nuggets of powder from escaping unblended, especially in humid Humboldt. As with cocoa powder, fold these in to avoid the affliction of matcha lung — the powder is fine and will rise up in your face if you ramp up the mixer too quickly. A scant tablespoon of matcha is plenty of flavor without risking bitterness, but you can go lighter if you like.
Our damp climate is tough on meringues, which can lose their crunch if left out on a rainy day. So after shutting off the oven, allow the meringue to sit a full three hours with the door closed to better dry it out. It’s a long wait — an excellent opportunity for playing Tchaikovsky, writing longhand letters about your rivals and collapsing glamorously atop some cushions.
The whipped cream is very lightly sweetened since the meringue has sugar enough. It’s also stabilized with cream of tartar so it doesn’t start weeping. (We’re delicate, darling, not messy.)
Much like a dancer’s peak, the life of a Pavlova is beautiful but brief, so follow its namesake’s example by serving and leaving no crumbs. If it’s too much, split the whipped meringue to form two bases and drop one off with someone who’d appreciate it. A prima ballerina loves an audience.
Matcha Pavlova
For the meringue:
6 large whites, room temperature
⅛ teaspoon salt
1 ¼ cup sugar
1 Tablespoon cornstarch
1 scant Tablespoon matcha powder
1 teaspoon white vinegar
For the topping:
1 cup heavy whipping cream, cold
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon cream of tartar
¼ cup powdered sugar
2 cups sliced strawberries (or other berries)
Heat the oven to 300F.
In a standing mixer with a whisk attachment, whip the egg whites and salt on high speed until stiff peaks form.
Lower the speed to medium high and add the sugar in a slow, steady stream. Once all the sugar is added, whip at high speed for 3 minutes. Pause the mixer and scrape down the sides of the bowl. Dip a finger and see if the meringue feels sandy. If so, whisk on high another minute and check again, repeating until the grit is gone. The mixture should be satiny and thick.
Sift in the cornstarch and matcha powder, and fold in until combined. Add 1 teaspoon of vinegar and whip the mixture on high speed until the color is uniform.
Scoop the mixture onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and use a spatula to form it into a circular mound about 10 inches in diameter. Form a depression in the interior and gently scrape upward on the sides with the spatula to create little peaks like a crown.
Reduce the oven temperature to 250F and place the baking sheet on the middle rack. Bake for 1 hour and 20 minutes, peeking through the window (don’t open the door and mess with the temperature) to see when the bottom is barely starting to brown.
When done, it should be dry to the touch. Close the oven again and let the meringue sit for 3 hours to dry out completely.
Meanwhile, whip the cream. Again using the mixer and whisk attachment, beat the cream on medium-high speed until thickened. Add the vanilla, cream of tartar and powered sugar. Increase the speed to high and whip until soft peaks form. Cover and refrigerate.
Once the meringue is out of the oven, let it cool completely. Gently — so, so gently — remove it from the parchment paper and place it on a serving plate. Scoop whipped cream into the center of the meringue and pile on the berries. Serve immediately and bow.
Jennifer Fumiko Cahill (she/her) is the managing editor at the Journal. Reach her at (707) 442-1400 ext. 106, or jennifer@northcoastjournal.com. Follow her on Bluesky @jfumikocahill.bsky.social.
This article appears in 731 Dogs.
