Hot Cocoa Soufflé

January 2028. And the world keeps turning, the way the world does, without asking my permission or consulting my schedule. The garden is sleeping. The collard greens are wintering. The watermelon seeds are in the drawer, fourth generation, waiting for March. And Pearl is three months old, and she smiled at me this week, and the smiling was worth the entire month of January, which in Savannah is gray and cold (by our standards) and generally in need of a reason to continue.

Pearl's smile is Hattie Pearl's smile. I know this because I have a photo of my mother at thirty — the only photo of her smiling that I have, a black-and-white picture taken at a church social in 1960 — and the smile is round and wide and uses the whole face and the eyes go narrow with the force of the joy. Pearl Brooks, three months old, smiles like that. The genetics skipped two generations and found the baby they named after. The name found the face. The face found the smile. The smile found me, standing at the stove on a Saturday morning, and I stopped stirring the grits (again — this baby is going to ruin my grits streak) and I looked at her and she smiled at me and I said, "There you are, Mama. I've been looking for you."

Michael was there too. He was eating grits. He did not stop eating grits to acknowledge the smile because Michael is two years old and grits take priority over all other events, including his sister's developmental milestones. He has his priorities. His priorities are grits-first. I respect this.

Made she-crab soup tonight. The winter comfort food. The soup that requires real crab roe, which Miss Vernelle provided because Miss Vernelle provides even in January, even when the marsh is cold and the creek is slow. The soup was rich and warm and tasted like the Lowcountry in winter, which is a quieter version of the Lowcountry in summer but still the same place, still the same water, still the same food.

Now go on and feed somebody.

After a bowl of she-crab soup and a baby’s first real smile, the night deserved a proper finish — something warm and a little bit daring, the kind of thing that asks you to pay attention while it’s in the oven. A soufflé has always struck me as the right dessert for a January evening that surprised you with something good, because it rises on faith and heat and you can’t rush it any more than you can rush a three-month-old into smiling again. I made this hot cocoa soufflé after the soup was done and the children were settled, and I stood at that oven door and I watched it climb, and I thought: yes, this is exactly the right ending for this exact day.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 14 min | Total Time: 34 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for greasing ramekins
3 tablespoons granulated sugar, divided, plus more for dusting ramekins
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole milk
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1 oz bittersweet chocolate (60–70% cacao), finely chopped
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon fine salt
3 large eggs, separated, room temperature
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
Powdered sugar and whipped cream, for serving

Instructions

Prepare the ramekins. Preheat oven to 375°F. Butter four 6-oz ramekins thoroughly, then dust each with granulated sugar, tapping out any excess. Set on a rimmed baking sheet.
Make the chocolate base. Melt butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in flour and cocoa powder and cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Slowly pour in milk, whisking until smooth. Cook, stirring, until mixture thickens to a pudding-like consistency, about 2–3 minutes. Remove from heat.
Add chocolate and flavor. Stir in chopped bittersweet chocolate, vanilla, salt, and 2 tablespoons of the granulated sugar until chocolate is fully melted and mixture is smooth. Let cool 5 minutes, then stir in egg yolks one at a time until incorporated.
Whip the egg whites. In a clean bowl, beat egg whites with cream of tartar on medium speed until foamy. Increase to high and gradually add remaining 1 tablespoon sugar, beating until stiff, glossy peaks form.
Fold and fill. Gently fold one-third of the whipped whites into the chocolate base to lighten it, then fold in the remaining whites in two additions, taking care not to deflate the batter. Divide evenly among prepared ramekins, filling to about 1/2 inch from the top. Run your thumb around the inner rim of each ramekin to create a shallow channel (this helps the soufflé rise straight).
Bake and serve immediately. Bake until soufflés have risen about 1 inch above the rim and the tops are set but the centers still have a slight jiggle, 12–14 minutes. Do not open the oven door during baking. Dust with powdered sugar and serve at once with whipped cream alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Hot Cocoa Soufflé — The Sweet Warmth That Follows a January Smile