Category: 1970s food

This is my story of a Chocolate Mousse lesson in school 1973.

We bought the ingredients for the class – eggs and cooking chocolate, BUT white eggs from the 1950s to 1960s were being replaced with brown eggs. And students thought brown eggs were healthier and best.                                                                                                   

‘Class. We’re making chocolate mousse. Bring a plate and collect an egg and a piece of chocolate.

This should be easy but there’s a kerfuffle. Jimmy bangs his fist on my table.

‘Miss, they’ve taken all them brown eggs and I’m not using them white ones. Me mum only buys brown eggs now. They’re healthier and fresher.’

The remaining queue mutters agreement.

‘Class, come and sit round my table. Jimmy – all eggs are the same. You don’t eat the shell.’

‘Miss, brown eggs are natural, I want one of them.’

‘Look, Jimmy we’ll sort something out.  We need to know how fresh they are. There’s no information on the box so you must each come up and do the freshness test.’

There’s a large jug of salted water on my table. 

‘Put your egg gently in the water. If it sinks it’s fresh, if it floats it’s too old and we’ll throw it away.’

One by one the eggs get tested, dark brown, light brown, the cream and white shelled ones. One by one they sink.

‘See they’re all fresh and the inside’s the same. Trust me Jimmy this time. ’

Back in their places, I see Jill swap her brown egg with Jimmy’s white one. That’s so kind.

‘Class. Let your chocolate melt in a small bowl over a saucepan of water. Then the tricky bit. Separate the egg white and yolk into two bowls. Cool the chocolate, stir in the yolk, then whisk the egg white until it’s stiff.’

‘Fold the egg white into the chocolate a spoonful at a time. Don’t lose the air. Spoon into a glass dish and chill.’

It all sounds so simple. We watch as fluffy and runny dishes of chocolate mousse get stacked in the fridge. Or on the windowsill when we run out of room. Soon they set and we’ll plop on a glacé cherry and an angelica diamond. 

Cynthia hands round teaspoons and they tuck in.

‘Hey class? Why don’t eggs tell jokes?’

I wait a few seconds.

‘Because they’d crack each other up.’

They laugh and for now it doesn’t matter if eggshells are white or brown.