92 NOVEMBER 2020
After I got back to New Orleans, I
found Claudia’s seminal book, The Last
Course. It instantly became my bible. I
carried it with me everywhere for two
solid years. I cooked out of that book,
following Claudia’s recipes to the letter,
and basically memorized it word for
word. She taught me techniques and
flavor combinations that I could apply
to the kinds of desserts I was doing in the
South. She solidified my entire catalog
of custards, for instance—teaching me just how to bake them,
how soft they should be, how to leave them alone and not jiggle
them while they cool.
In the big picture, Claudia changed the way I approach food.
Like with fruit in particular, she keeps things so simple, but
she shows off the exact personality of the ingredient without
adding a bunch of different flavors and muddling it. Whatever
else goes on the plate is there only to showcase the fruit—never
to compete or contrast with it, always to elevate it. The way she
did that framed the past 20 years of my cooking.
The funny thing is, though I worshiped her from afar, I didn’t
meet Claudia until a couple of years ago at an anniversary event
at Union Square Cafe, where I was invited to cook—savory food.
Claudia was doing the desserts. I almost died when I realized
I’d meet her. It was a total fangirl moment. To think that I was
going to be sharing a kitchen with Claudia, after looking up to
her for so long? It was like meeting royalty!
I was allowed to bring a sous chef, so I invited pastry chef Lisa
Donovan, who also worshiped Claudia. I mean, I had to sharein this moment, and I knew it would be
huge for both of us. We got to the restau-
rant, and we were in the kitchen prepping
for like a day and a half—but no Claudia.
Every time someone came around the
corner, we were like, is it her? Is it Clau-
dia? It was like Christmas morning.
Finally, we were upstairs for family
meal, and she snuck into the kitchen,
as unassuming as she is, and got to work.
We had no words; we just shook hands.
Then, after the ice was broken, she exceeded every expectation
I’ve ever had because she was genuinely nice and so humble.
That night, she made buttermilk panna cotta with Concord
grape sorbet—one of the most Claudia desserts I can imagine. I
ate three of them, and they were exactly as I’d imagined they
should be. I was in heaven.
Claudia and I became friendly after that, though I am still in
awe of her. For this Thanksgiving, I remembered how grateful I
am for her presence in my life as we teamed up long-distance to
create something special for Food & Wine readers in the form of
a dessert table with our favorite sweets, including one we made
up together. Getting to create a recipe with her for this story, I
felt like a giddy little schoolgirl. When we started collaborating,
it came together very naturally because I’ve been mimicking her
style for so long. We didn’t even have to brainstorm much. We
didn’t overthink it. There is no bold line between what part is
hers and what is mine. And that, after all these years of admir-
ing her from afar, is an amazing gift —and one I will treasure for
many years to come.IN 2000, I had just started leading the pastry kitchen in a popular NewOrleans restaurant when I took a trip up to New York City to help mefind (and grow) my own pastry legs. It was a time when tall, overlyconstructed desserts were all the rage, and I felt lesser-than becauseI didn’t want that to be my style. (I really don’t do architecture.)I went to all of the NYC hot spots on that trip, but it was at GramercyTavern that I found my true North Star in Claudia Fleming. I didn’tknow who Claudia Fleming was before I walked into the restaurant—Ididn’t even know she existed! But damn, her desserts were so simple,beautiful, and thoughtful, and they resonated with me in a way thatno other desserts ever had. That moment at Gramercy Tavern eatingClaudia’s desserts was the persuasive argument for my entire career.KELLY FIELDS CLAUDIA FLEMINGFOOD STYLING: TORIE COX; PROP STYLING: CHRISTINE KEELY; PORTRAITS: ALEXANDRA COMPAIN-TISSIER