I didn’t understand the appeal of chocolate mousse until ten years ago, when I had it at home with my friends Cecile and Tom Renna. They hosted brunch on a July afternoon that was so oppressively damp I couldn’t imagine eating much.
But then Cecile pulled out two large metal bowls—one with chocolate mousse, the other with whipped cream—so chilled from the fridge that they immediately started sweating as much as we did.
Cool, silky and so light, the mousse was perfect for the warm weather. It disappeared in your mouth like cotton candy, but delivered a deep chocolate taste. And the casual way Cecile served her dessert—family style for us to scoop straight from the mixing bowls—made it just as fun and welcoming as a birthday cake.
Chocolate mousse can seem intimidating because it’s often layered in martini glasses and topped with chocolate curls in formal dining rooms. But in France, where Cecile grew up, it carries the unobtrusive fame of our chocolate chip cookies. She has been making mousse since childhood and now loosely follows the instructions on the back of a “cheap” French Nestle dark chocolate bar. “It’s the recipe everyone makes in France,” she said.
Someone scooped for seconds, revealing a clear cloud of whipped egg whites that had not been incorporated into the chocolate. I stiffened instinctively. In the restaurant kitchens where I’d worked, the chefs would have whispered-screamed about how unacceptable it was (in more colorful language).
Instead, Cecile glanced at the egg white pupil surrounded by his chocolate iris and laughed. She preferred it, she said with nonchalant confidence, adding that it was better to have bags of egg whites than to fold them so well that the mousse drains.
When I asked her all these years later about her perfect-is-the-enemy-of-the-good approach to mousse, she said, “The moment you’re afraid to do something, it paralyzes you.”
But there is nothing to be afraid of making mousse, especially since there are endless variations of it. The word loosely translates to “foam,” and that’s all it needs. “Larousse Gastronomique”, the culinary tome, broadly describes it as a “light, gentle preparation”. That lightness can come from eggs, cream or just air, as is the case with the chocolate-only version from molecular gastronome Hervé This.
What makes a no-nonsense mousse?
Most mousse recipes follow a few basic steps: melt chocolate, then fold in frothy egg yolk, egg white, or both, and sometimes whipped cream. Many enhance the mix with coffee, alcohol, herbs or other seasonings. In “Mastering the Art of French Cuisine,” Julia calls on Child to whisk the egg yolks at room temperature, then with steaming water, then with cold water, before whisking the egg whites as well. She also melts an amazing amount of butter into the chocolate, just like Ina Garten, a generation later. In The Times, Craig Claiborne and Pierre Franey shared their “ne plus ultra” formula, which involves folding a sabayon (a custard-like dessert sauce of egg yolks and liqueur), then sweetened whipped cream, then stiff egg whites into chocolate.
The thing with chocolate mousse is that any type will be delicious as long as it’s soft and fluffy. I wanted to make a version that reflected Cecile’s laid-back spirit – both in cooking and sharing. To sample the effects of different ingredients in different proportions and understand potential pitfalls, I experimented with nearly 20 variations to come up with a formula that combines simple pleasures and easy preparation. There are some important steps to achieve this.
Extra light proteins: Mountains of peaked egg whites were a given, as egg whites give the fluffiest foam and are easy to whip with an electric mixer, ideally a standing mixer. To ensure they set, the mixing bowl must be clean and the whites must not contain a trace of yolk. If you’re concerned about your egg separating skills, drop each egg white into a separate small bowl before sliding it into the mixing bowl. This way, if you have, say, five perfect egg whites in the mixing bowl and you mess up the sixth, you don’t have to start all over.
The egg whites can then be beaten – on medium speed for the most stable foam – until stiff enough to form peaks and stick in the bowl and at the end of the whisk. There should be no liquid in the bottom of the bowl, but the egg whites should not have dried out from beating too hard. Whisking in some sugar will also keep them shiny.
Just Right Wealth: After testing versions with yolks beaten until voluminous, I found that whipping them has more lift, but not enough to justify the time and extra washing up. Not to mention, the taste of eggs came through too strongly when the yolks were beaten first. Simply stirring them in created a richness that does not interfere with the taste of the chocolate.
Butter also offered richness, but it was a bit too much for a summer dessert, making the mousse denser, like a chocolate truffle. For just right creaminess, heavy cream softens the bitter edge of chocolate. Whisking before adding it also gives a hint of fluffiness, but it’s tricky to determine the temperature. If it is too cold, the chocolate may solidify in small lumps; not cold enough, and it will just liquefy.
After a tip from a French chef’s grandmother, I melted the chocolate with the cream. Not only did this give a smooth milky taste, but it also helped prevent the chocolate from settling and becoming grainy. So did adding the yolks while the chocolate was still warm. The fat in both the cream and yolks can cause the mixture to look broken, but beating it gently off the heat can help it come back together. A dash of cold cream is also possible. If the mixture still looks a bit separated, it will become smoother with the addition of the white and the end result will be silky.
Smart, soft folding: A dollop of the white is first stirred into the chocolate to loosen the mix, meaning you can fold in the rest of the white with the gentlest touch to get the frothiest mousse. As for folding, it’s exactly what it sounds like: You want to pick up the heavier chocolate at the bottom of the bowl and fold over the weightless white on top. And you want the two to flow into each other in as few folds as possible to keep all the air trapped in the whites intact.
It also helps to turn the bowl in the opposite direction to your spatula as you sweep the chocolate up and over the whites. So, for example, if you spin your spatula from 6 o’clock to 9 o’clock, you’ll want to turn your bowl counterclockwise. It’s not necessary, but it’s worth a try just because of how meditative it feels and looks, the zebra swirls fade into a beautiful brown.
Whether you find chocolate mousse easy will depend on your experience and comfort level with dessert making, but these small tweaks and tips can guarantee a bowl of goodness. Once you get the hang of it, you can whip it up in less than 20 minutes. It’s not a real mousse until it’s cooled, and it’s much better after 24 hours in the fridge, but that’s what makes it the most stress-free party dessert. Prepare it the day before the guests arrive and take it out when it’s time to eat.
But what really makes this a relaxing dish is the approach Cecile recommends: try it without fear and don’t worry if it’s not perfect. About mousse – and maybe more – she said, “You can’t control everything. The moment you let it go, it makes life so much easier.”