My aunt Mary Jane is here for a visit, which means there will be family stories over a Mother’s Day brunch — my mother’s side loves to reminisce. Even though I know the ending of all our stories, I always laugh until I cry at the punchlines.
One set is about the summers my mother and her sister went up to Bar Harbor, Maine. They were in their early 20s and went to work as waitresses at Testa’s Restaurant, boarding at a faded mansion behind the now-gone Rockhurst Motel, run by what they describe as a kooky elderly couple, before moving into a lofted shed on a local gentleman farmer’s property.
That first summer in Maine was when my mother discovered popovers at Jordan Pond House in Acadia National Park. She would drive the winding road lined with white pine and aspen to the restaurant, which was a timber building with heavy wooden furniture and a sturdy stone hearth. (The original burned down in 1979 long after she had moved to Provincetown; it was rebuilt in 1982 as a brighter but decidedly less charming structure.) She would order one glorious popover, cut it open, and watch the steam pour out before drenching it with butter and blueberry jam.
When I was a kid, Mom would sometimes make popovers for us, but they were usually reserved for company or special holidays. Occasionally we would go on a popover bender, and she’d bake a half dozen several weekends in a row. Popovers always provoked memories. She would tell me about watching the sunrise at Cadillac Mountain and picking raspberries with Mary Jane at George’s farm while we devoured our warm pastries, which somehow were at once airy and dense.
This is the first Mother’s Day I’ll celebrate as a mother. And the fact that my aunt will be here for it counts as both company and a special holiday, so I asked my mom if we could make popovers together. She has perfected her recipe over the decades. The current iteration is jotted down on the back of an envelope, so you know it’s good.
It starts with the right gear. You need a popover pan, which looks a bit like a caged muffin tin. Atlantic Spice Company in Truro sells one that makes 12 mini popovers; the Cook Shop in Brewster has a wider selection including the traditional six-piece pan. Size is up to you, but I say: go big.
A separate baking sheet is also helpful, since you need to preheat the popover pan for 20 minutes at 450 degrees. The wire edge of the piping hot pan can be daunting to grab with bulky oven mitts, especially when it’s filled with liquid batter. Using the sheet pan as a liner gives you more purchase and leeway when moving it back into the oven. (Trust me, I’ve slopped plenty on the floor and cabinets.)
The ingredients are simple — eggs, flour, milk, and salt — but the preparation can seem exceedingly fussy. You have to pay attention to the details if you want that golden crisp top that pops out and over the rim of the pan with a soft custardy center.
The eggs and milk must be at room temperature before you start. All-purpose flour (we use gluten-free, which works fine) should be sifted into the egg-milk mixture, which is then whisked by hand until frothy. Be careful not to overwork the batter, though, lest the popovers turn out tough. Grease the tins immediately after the preheat before you pour in the batter. We use spray oil to avoid touching the hot metal.
These bake for a total of 40 minutes with a temperature drop halfway. Toward the end, the popovers will explode upward like volcanic crepes. This will be exciting, and you will want to peek, but do not succumb to the temptation to open the oven door! Doing so will ruin the bake.
If yours fail to pop, there are remedies. Some recommend resting the batter for anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour. My mother suggests water in the sheet pan, but adding a moat seems treacherous to me. Once you pull them from the oven, pierce the top of each popover with a cake tester or toothpick.
Popovers are best served steaming hot with copious butter and jam. Mimosas are a celebratory complement that I plan to enjoy for a toast to two important women in my life this Mother’s Day as we reminisce about their summers in Maine with raucous laughter at the kitchen table.
DELIA’S PERFECT POPOVERS
Makes 6 large popovers or 12 minis
3 large eggs at room temperature
1½ cups milk at room temperature
1½ cups all-purpose flour
1½ tsp. salt
Spray oil
Butter and assorted jams
- Preheat popover pan for 20 minutes at 450° F.
- Combine eggs and milk, then sift in flour and salt. Mix batter by hand until frothy.
- Remove pan from oven and reduce heat to 400° F. Quickly grease the hot pan with spray oil. Pour the batter, filling tins no more than halfway.
- Bake for 20 minutes, then reduce heat to 350° F and bake 20 minutes more.
- Remove pan from the oven and pierce popovers to release steam. Serve with butter and jam.
