Coeur à la Crème & my broken heart – A night to forget!

Coeur à la Crème
 

If you get the impression from the Coeur à la Crème photo above that I am hostile towards Valentine’s Day,  I can assure you I am.

I owe this ‘holiday’ no loyalty!  February after February the day as never failed to sour any sweet display of love I have felt while eating a fancy dinner in public. My experiences with it have, however, left me several real-life lessons one cannot find on a greeting cards or tags fastened to roses arriving at your place of work.

Not being one for sappy platitudes I will still present this Coeur à la Crème, a heart-shaped blob of milk-fat — one of the sappiest of all Valentine’s Day desserts.

I hate it.

A dessert comprised solely of cream cheese (and other dairy,) sugar and a splash of vanilla elevated to its romantic tradition solely based on it being heart-shaped. Spare me. Just looking at it makes me wretch. It does, however, compel me to share with you the tale of my 25th Valentine’s Day. The one where my own naive coeur à la crème was stabbed savagely by my “true love.”

This is “The One With Dr. Frank.”

I was a romantically naive 25 years old. A newbie at romance and dating being only recently out.  A teenager-equivalent really. I had managed to suppress all dating activity until I had finished college a few years earlier. Unfortunately, this imparted a false sense of urgency to the situation each time the slightest hint of romance would present itself. Each new chance at love would seem as if it were my last chance.  I know now the sweet-spot for my true love hadn’t yet begun but at twenty five it felt as if my chances were slipping by.

Then I met Dr. Frank.

My grandma would have described Dr. Frank as “all that and a bag of chips.” True fact:  when I met Frank he was actually holding a bag of chips and cruising me in the supermarket snack aisle. His bold, overt interest, while staring at me like a meal was something I had not yet experienced.  His complete lack of shame while broadcasting his interest was inebriating!  He gave me the hot tinglies! Fifteen years of trying desperately to remain invisible made it simultaneously unnerving and exciting when a guy as gorgeous and “normal” could see me so easily…and still want me…

I was to botch this first meeting.  I imagine that Dr. Frank was annoyed with my inexperienced and awkward small talk.  No matter.  I wasn’t a fully baked gay yet and my cruising patter would need some work.  Not quite ready to let Dr. Frank “close the deal” self scampered off sheepishly to the safety of my bachelorhood.  

We would meet again several months later at a house party thrown by a mutual friend. Dr. Frank recognized me immediately and honed in like a CIA drone locked on target.  He flirted even more shamelessly than he had before. I was no match for his full attention and immediately fell under his spell. Although not the host he behaived like one and asked me if I would like a cocktail. By the end of the evening I was head-over-heals for Dr. Frank, planning our wedding and eventual retirement to the Italian countryside where I would cook large afternoon lunches and we’d nap all afternoon under the olive trees. 

He seemed to be everything I would ever want. Five years older than me, he was handsome beyond measure, successful, confident, unashamed, and most importantly: interested in me.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t quite learned yet how to see the inside of people.

Coeur à la Crème

Dating Dr. Frank was never easy but it was always an exciting, thrilling ride and a very passionate one at that. I could never count on him to call when he said he would, and it seemed almost purposeful that I would never actually know when I would see him next. Of course this made it difficult to work out the details of our future married-to-doctor-frank life together, but for that torso-and-fancy-car I would learn to make do.  One good date night (and an early morning) at his place would wipe away any concerns I might have had so I could go on projecting any “reality” I desired onto my life.

“He just forgot to call because he’s under a lot of work stress right now.”

We dated all of 3 months when February 14th started to roll around. I just knew this would be my very first special Valentine’s Day — a romantic celebration I had craved! The 25-year-old me, the guy who had never dated anyone for this length of time, anxiously waited for Dr. Frank’s invitation. Certainly Frank was planning something special and would call me as soon as he had all the specifics arranged!

Right?

Eventually, Dr. Frank would call and ask me to the local hot-spot gay restaurant in town. Wow! I would get the double satisfaction of a romantic prix-fixe dinner date with my super hot doctor guy AND the first-ever pubic presentation of us as a couple. I had grown quietly frustrated we hadn’t yet managed to be seen out publicly as a couple. But this night, with what was sure to be our happiness on full display, would have me forgetting all about this un-noticed clue.

Score!

Coeur à la Crème

Coeur à la Crème

The benefit of  hindsight now shows me there were, in fact, many, many clues I had chosen to ignore. Had I actually seen them I would have known our night (and our relationship) would not end well. Dr. Frank would not be picking me up in his pride-and-joy Mercedes that night as was his usual habit. Instead he asked me to meet him at the restaurant.

“He’s so busy taking care of patients. I don’t mind at all if this makes it easier for him.”

Even though I did mind. Both of us loved it when he would pull up to my door, in my neighborhood full of busybodies and toot the horn — my neighbors would turn their heads and admire his expensive car.

And so I parked my own car that night, walked in alone, and was shown to the table by the host.  Upon approach the entire night changed in that second. There were four other people sitting at the table with my boyfriend!

Dr. Frank noticed me, stood up, and came over to kiss me hello. On the lips  with an open mouth! He introduced his table-mates, men I had never seen before: there was Tom (his dashing “ex”), Darrel (his “other ex” and even more handsome), and finally Carlo and Michael —  “the other guys I’m dating right now.”

Um…whats, huh?

I do remember feeling a dizzying thwap to the head, a punch to the gut next, and then a cacophony of unintelligible table chit-chat while my pounding heart would not let me hear anybody’s actual words for several minutes. Too much revelation was was hitting me all at once. Where was my cocktail?

Should I to have known about these people? Who were they and why were they at MY Valentine’s Day celebration with my boyfriend Dr. Frank? 

Had this been a movie scene this would have been the moment where I scream “how very dare you!” and throw a cocktail in his face, call him an asshole and storm out of the restaurant. WASP training, no, genetics, is hard ignore so  quietly suppressed emotions and sat down to a dinner with Dr. Frank’s and his other boyfriends. If anyone was watching me I would not give them the pleasure of witnessing my meltdown.  

A self-debrief of the last three months would have to take place at a later time with the help of a therapist surely, but in that moment all eyes seemed to be on me to witness what I would later come to find out was Dr. Frank’s Valentine dinner tradition: getting the gang together!

I opted to keep my cool. Besides one of Dr. Franks other unsuspecting boyfriends was smoking hot! 

Carlo was dark and Italian looking and we quickly bonded over the mutual injustice done to us by Dr. Frank. We drank multiple expensive cocktails and sharpened our wit, both at Frank’s expense. When it was time for dessert our server reverently placed before each of us a perfectly formed miniature coeur a la creme.

Over the course of an hour or two our table for six morphed into a flirty table for two.  Me and Carlo was all that mattered. Like Dr. Frank, Carlo was bold and full of confidence and he too earned my attentions by asking if I would like a cocktail. After cocktail. And why not? I was newly single again (handwriting on the wall and all that) and being the advanced age of twenty five I couldn’t afford to let a chance at love pass me by. Making the best of it was a lot easier by having Carlo’s hand grope me under the table.

“Carlo, lets consider this our first date!”

Eventually the two of us would get up to say our tipsy goodbyes to Dr. Frank and his living tableau of romantic history. They hadn’t much paid attention to us, nor we them, and we doubted they would miss us much. Besides, it was getting late and we were eager to leave them to the rest of their lives and get on with ours.  Hopefully first back at Carlo’s apartment and then eventually to the Italian countryside.  

We made a big show of walking back through the restaurant together holding hands and acting as if we had just had the best dinner of our lives. We kissed goodnight at the front door and Carlo offered to walk me to my car. Such a gentleman!

The night’s surprises were not yet over. 

As we passed Dr. Frank’s beloved Mercedes Carlo, in a blink of the eye, took  a serrated steak knife he must have pocketed from the restaurant out and plunged it effortlessly into the driver’s side front tire. Barely a pop and before I could register what had just happened I heard the hiss of a second stab to the read tire.

And with that maneuver — Carlo simultaneously deflated the poor doctor’s ride home and my hopes for a new boyfriend to heal the wounds left by Dr. Frank.

Run!

It would be the last time I saw Carlo but from tat night forward I was finally ready to relax and let people reveal themselves to me before falling for them. Mostly. Kind of. Not always. I would try. 

I consider this lesson my Valentine’s gift from Dr. Frank and I still remember him fondly for it. It would not be the last time I would ever see Dr. Frank. He would return to my life later and make several key re-appearances later – but never again with the same sense of gravitas and drama he had when I was only 25, and in a hurry. 

Damn Valentine’s Day.  Stupid dessert.

Broken Coeur à la Crème

Broken Coeur à la Crème

If you wish for the full cathartic effect plunging a dagger into this dessert will impart I recommend investing in a full sized coeur a la creme mold.They are inexpensive and can be found at most cooking stores or online. The mold has small holes in the bottom that allow the liquids to drain out and the heart to solidify and hold its shape nicely. If acting out on early personal heartbreak is not your concern I have found the recipe still works quite well in other shallow dishes or even custard cups.

This is what you will need:

  • 2 sheets of cheesecloth, each large enough to line the mold. Rinsed with water and squeezed until damp.
  • 8-ounce package cream cheese at room temperature
  • 1 cup crème fraîche or sour cream
  • 4 tablespoons powdered sugar
  • 1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • Pinch of salt

This is how you make it:

  1. Line the coeur à la crème mold with 1 square of cheesecloth and then the other right on top of it and set aside.
  2. With an electric or KitchenAid mixer with paddle attachment, beat cream cheese, crème fraîche, powdered sugar, lemon juice, vanilla, and salt until smooth. This should take about 4 minutes.
  3. Fold the mixture into the coeur à la crème mold and smooth out with a plastic spatula. Cover the mold with overhanging cheesecloth over and place mold on a shallow baking dish to catch the liquids. Cover the whole thing with plastic wrap and chill for at least 4 hours but preferably overnight.
  4. When ready to serve, unmold the dessert onto a platter and sharpen your dagger. The dessert is great on its own but it is traditionally served with a topping of sliced fruit or raspberry sauce.

Notes

(Note: Some recipes will have you putting the cheese mixture through a fine mesh strainer to remove any clumps before setting into the mold. I have found that if your cream cheese is at room temperature when you start that this is an unnecessary step and certainly not one Dr. Frank would do for you.)

https://sisboomblog.com/coeur-a-la-creme/

As delicious as it is, I will never enjoy this Coeur à la Crème, you might so please try it.

About Trevor Kensey

I don't know what “Sis. Boom. [blog!]" means either. But, if a post makes even a small 'boom' in your day, I would be happy. Please don't call me a "foodie", or even a food blogger. I prefer "food raconteur" thank you very much.
Each bite tells a story...

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  1. “I prefer my hearts with a bit more substance and heft.”

    Nailed it! And -hoo-boy- it’s exactly what I got the second time around. I’ve never been able to put it so succinctly. Thanks for those words!

  2. Grrr…I wish there weren’t Dr. Franks in this world. Glad you moved on… Love how you plunged the knife into yours 🙂

  3. Oh Trevor, this post had the best ending ever. I feel like Billy Crystal in When Harry Met Sally “Best last line of a movie, ever.” At least your Coeur looks great – mine was a big white pancake boob. Happy day after Valentine’s Day!

  4. Trevor, thank goodness you’ve finally found the love you deserve!

    I was madly in love with a gorgeous Latino gay friend in college which was tough, but I could deal…until he started dating another girl and brought her to a party! I got so drunk that night I have no idea how I made it back to my dorm room. Then, I quit drinking all together for many, many years. But this gorgeous guy would continue to torment me for years. I was gulible, trusting, naive, and lacking in self-esteem. So, I finally grew up.

    Love your heart! xoxo

  5. The ending was even better than I could have pictured.I can hear the slow hiss of the deflating tire in my head.(Although my sympathies do go out to the car).

    Who knew that the Doristas were a vengeful lot? Perhaps all that time in the heat of the kitchen has seared our souls.

    My inability to fully see inside people is probably how I landed with my ex-husband. If only I learned that life lesson a heckuva lot sooner.

  6. Ah, Valentine’s Day – I’ve often wondered if it tries to be terrible on purpose. It does seem to be good at doling out depressing life lesson. What I learned this year is that cream hearts are indeed sappy but delicious. And also beautiful when slashed with red. I’m not sure what kind of lesson that is, exactly, but at least it’s tasty.

  7. Your bleeding 25 year old heart or Dr. Frank´s stabbed one… Hostile is what I will use from now on when referring to a few holidays that are not to my liking, perfect word. This is one of your most interesting posts Trevor!

  8. Roses are red, broken hearts are too. Dr Frank was a dick, but you knew what to do.
    … bloody Valentines are the best, by far! I loved this post. xoxo

  9. I stand amazed at the chutzpah. What a dinner. But it made for an interesting story.

  10. Am I am the only one hearing “it’s raining men” as they read about all the boyfriends sitting at that table ? Oh my- this was movie worthy indeed, but that is not necessarily what you want to hear when it is your life. You are clearly an amazingly strong person (in addition to being hilarious)and your perspective is fabulous. Plus your priorities are spot on -“and besides, Carlos…was kind of hot”. Wow and thanks for sharing. And that dessert, by the way, looks phenomenal. I had the “soccer mom uses her colander” version but I loved it nonetheless……..

  11. What an awesome post. And wow, that Dr. Frank. Sounds all too familiar. I wonder if I know him! I had every intention of making this recipe, but just could not get past my disgust for the day this year. The mold is going back to Sur La Table. Maybe in a few years. Or not. But I do love your bloody knife in the heart. Brilliant!

  12. Fab fab fab post!!! I’ve been waiting to read yours all day! Love it!

    Also, “I prefer my hearts with a bit more substance and heft.” You are so right. Dorie’s recipe is lovely but too light and fluffy. Tastes good but not quite right consistency. Glad I tried!

  13. I LOVE your first photo! It’s the bad relationships that help us find (and appreciate!) the good ones. One boyfriend in particular helped me discover all the things I DIDN’T want in a relationship. Thank you for sharing.

  14. Well, Trevor, I don’t know what to say. That is the beginning of a New Yorker magazine story, for sure. Did you not proceed with Carlos because he slashed the tire. I actually thought that was a good idea and well deserved. It’s apparent that Dr. Frank is a totally jackass and wouldn’t respond to or be bothered by angry verbage. Didn’t you think of keying the car? Another idea for the future. I thought you were a little harsh with the Coeur in the first picture. It is not the food’s fault. But, it was a dramatic beginning and I certainly was enthralled by your story. Remember when you just wrote about mayo?

  15. Wow what a great story for a mere coeur de la creme…I understand your photo with the “blood” red coulis!

  16. Oh my! What a story. Dr. Frank did not deserve you, and you are better off without him, but then you already knew that now didn’t you, Trevor? Life’s lessons come in a variety of packages from a multitude of sources – bosses, friends, family members, used car salesmen (don’t ask), professors – you name it. But no teacher can compare to a boyfriend for sheer coronary impact. I loved reading about Dr. Frank. What a guy. I simply can not imagine being introduced to the ex’es and “the other guys I’m dating right now.” Somebody needs to tell the good doctor that nobody is that good.

    I love Coeur a la creme, but I have not made it in years. Thanks for the reminder.

    This is just my second visit to your site, having come from Sippity Sup, and I am loving everything about it. The design is wonderful, your writing a joy, and your food most enticing. Thanks for some truly delicious reading. Bravissimo!

    P.S. And you were right to leave Carlo in the dust. It feels pretty good, doesn’t it, to pay attention to the signs?

  17. I have taken my dip in your prose and my fingers are all wrinkly because I stayed in for so long. I didn’t want to get out of the pool. I LOVED your story you told so well. I need a double dip. More, please!

  18. Dr Frank is a piece of work. I am abivalent about Valentines Day because it simply passed me by as a non- event for so many years. Great job on the coeur a la creme. I made a blob, which tasted not bad,

  19. First, I love that you went anti-valentine’s day. Someone had to do it. And second, I feel like so many of us (or, at least those of us who were still dating past the age of 20) had Dr. Frank come into our lives at some point. I choose to think of mine as a lesson learned the hard way. Great post!

  20. Best Valentine’s post ever. I’m glad there was both a little revenge served cold and a happy ending, too.

  21. Your photos are beautiful, and perfectly paired with your story. I don’t like Valentines Day at all (a husband moved out that day when I was in college… kind of messes it up a bit!). Didn’t get to the recipe either, but I’m happy you did so you could charm us all again with your wit!

  22. I’m speechless about that wicked Valentine’s night.I can totally understand why you hate Valentine’s Day. I once met a man for dinner who pursued me hotly. During appetizer he tells me he’s living with another woman. I promptly told him he was a jerk, and there is a reason I take my own car on first dates, and I got up and left him there. I learned that there are good people and bad people and they are miles apart. I married a good one, have had 12 great Valentine’s days. I’m still speechless about Dr. Frank and his night of Ex’s. The heart is perfect recipe for this story.

  23. I had to come back to say, I think the tire slashing was appropriate, although I’m generally a rule follower and non-violent person. I had a friend who ran her ex husband over with a car. Now that was bad! 🙂

  24. Dr. Frank Dr. Skank! I guess you gotta kiss a few toads before you find your prince, eh? Also, love the recipe reference to the others. hhaha slick move! This crustless cheesecake sounds divine!

  25. WOW! What a story! It was very entertaining and how terrible… I could feel like it was happening to me while I read it! What a terrible thing for him to have done but as you said, those are the lessons we learn and are hopefully not to repeat! I will be interested, however, to hear more stories. Dinner and a show!

    Love the pics – fantastic.

  26. My first boyfriend was also a Dr. Frank. Or, at least Frank was finishing up his PhD in clinical psychology when we were dating, so he was a soon-to-be Dr. Frank.

    The way our story differs is that my Frank was the exact opposite of yours– kind, sensitive, understanding, and in love with me. I responded to his goodness by making him want to get as far away from me as possible, because that’s what all self-disrespecting, closeted 21 year-old college students do, isn’t it?

    It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. It sounds as if you deserved my Dr. Frank and I deserved yours.

  27. Love the picture and adore your story. Going on 59 years of wedded “bliss”, I can’t even
    remember what dating was…..

  28. Trevor, We’ve all had our Dr. Franks! I’m just glad I found the right person to share my live with!! He really did deserve to get his tires slashed…what an idiot!!
    I love the heart mold with the knife stuck into it, and the red coulis oozing out!! Best photo!!

  29. Trevor, your post has left me entirely speechless…how could any comment I make in my less than perfect English do any kind of justice to your amazing writing skills! But I will say that I enjoyed reading your personal story tremendously and that your photography is quite amazing! I really must try to find some of these heart-shaped molds, the coeur à la crème looks wonderful when it is in the shape of a heart, even if it is a bleeding heart.
    Have a good weekend filled with inspiring stories and thank you for the lovely comment you left on my blog post!

  30. What an ending, and a great story! Wonder what the Doc is up to now?

  31. Trevor! Fantastic post! At least you saw the serrated steak knife and the slashing of a tire as negatives in possible boyfriend material. =D

  32. The bloody coeur photo sums it all up, though of course that’s what you intended. They say you have to kiss a lot of frogs, so I’m glad that you finally found the one. Your story made me smile. Sounds like everyone got what was coming to them in the end.

  33. I am a stranger to you. I am old and I am straight. I loved this.

  34. I wondered about your hostility towards Valentine’s Day and anything heart-shaped and now we know. I am so glad that you were able to share your story with us and get some of your frustrations out. It looks like your coeur didn’t suffer a bit. Betsy, is right – you sometimes have to kiss a lot of toads before you get your prince and I am glad that you found yours!

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