Greg set out the ingredients for a simple roulade sponge base of flour, milk, butter, and eggs. He separated and whisked the yolks and set the whites to beat in the mixer.
The Puffin Dinner was now closed and quiet for the day. He loved the peace of cooking, only one light over the stove and another over the prep table. The dining room was shielded from the midday sun by the deep porch and let him imagine its shadowed interior just waiting for the eager crowd to come.
Once he had the roux built, he folded in the egg whites, but the oven wasn’t up to temperature yet. He could afford to wait a few minutes.
For the filling he mixed together some Italian Parmesan cheese and a couple cups of the goat yogurt that Tiffany made on her farm up in the woods. Her boyfriend had dragged her to Eagle
