Professor Butter Beard and Helene Schjerfbeck’s Portraits of Einar Reuter
“Something must be said for childhood favorites where, as adults, we take a bite and are instantly transported back to lunch in Nana’s kitchen or a family Christmas dinner. We find fondness in home-cooked, comfort food, where the “comfort” is mostly reminiscence.” – Alison Ranwell
“I need you to own Butterscotch Pudding,” commanded Andrew. I had just completed my second year as his Pastry Chef at “Frontiere” in Soho, and we were setting the final touches on the dessert menu for “Joes,” his new “American Comfort” restaurant in the West Village. Opening was one month out, and Andrew demanded nothing less than culinary perfection. Over the next three weeks I must have whisked over two hundred variations of butterscotch pudding, baked over three hundred different coconut cream pies, and smoked-out my Lower Park Slope kitchen (and neighbors) pan-searing slices of my almond pound cake. And yes, the fire trucks arrived twice.
Yet, two weeks later, after Ruth Reichl arrived for dinner in her best attempt to be unrecognizable, her review was published in the Wednesday food section of the New York Times. “Mr. McClellan,” she wrote, “fully understands the complexity of achieving perfect comfort in his ethereal Butterscotch Pudding.” I finally slept for two days.
But, you may ask, what brings about this memory explosion and the craving for a silky-smooth portion of pudding? Well, the answer is two-fold. One, the outside temperature has not once been above freezing (and my comfort level) for the last two weeks, and Nels is threatening to poop in my slippers if I don’t fix that soon. And second, my obsession with the insanely soulful and deliciously butterscotch-beige portraits painted by Helene Schjerfbeck - especially the ones of her dearest friend, Einar Reuter.
Helene Schjerfbeck never married, but she found a confidant in a much younger man who captured her heart and to whom she would write as many as a thousand letters. Born in 1881, Einar Reuter was a well-travelled Finnish writer, art critic and painter, specializing in (and advocating) the influences of early 20th-century Modernism.
In 1915, Schjerfbeck’s paintings caught the eye of the extremely handsome Reuter. He immediately journeyed to Hyvinkӓӓ (Schjerbeck’s home at the time) to buy a few of her paintings. “This visit,” writes Dita Amory, “would have a profound impact on the reclusive Schjerfbeck and indeed on her legacy.” Their friendship grew intensively over many years, fueled by a shared passion for art and literature.
“It is thanks to Schjerfbeck’s deep attraction to Reiter,” continues Amory, “their extensive correspondence, and the solitary nature of her existence that we have her many revelatory letters (in Swedish) candidly discussing her innermost thoughts and feelings: her struggles as an artist, her musing on color in the paintings of Vincent van Gogh, and her frustration with critics.”
Reuter posed for Schjerfbeck on several occasions, and I can’t stop looking deeply into these works, introducing myself to the soul that captured the artist’s heart. The first portrait, over which she struggled for three years, shows him confidently attired in formal wear, glancing downward just seconds before raising his eyes to acknowledge her presence. In the second, the bare-chested Reuter sits in a pose that is, according to Amory, “both formally awkward and disarmingly sensual.”
This large canvas, titled “The Sailor,” was painted in Tammisaari, a seaside town where the two artists spent several weeks painting together. Within weeks of its completion, Schjerfbeck’s heart was shattered upon hearing in a letter from Reuter that he was engaged to a young Swedish beauty. Her life force swept downward into a deep decline, but she continued to write to Reuter for the rest of her life. Of the two thousand extant letters in her hand, roughly half are addressed to Reuter. None of his letters to her have survived.
But what does survive is Schjerfbeck’s first biography, written by Reuter under the pseudonym “H. Ahtela.” Published in 1917 in Finnish (a language that Schjerfbeck herself did not understand well), the brief monograph was expanded and published in both Swedish and Finnish editions in the 1950’s after Schjerfbeck’s death. The first ever English-language version of Reuter’s biography only appeared in 2023, just two years before the Metropolitan Museum in New York opened her inaugural North American exhibition.
We all could use a spoonful of comfort right now – whether it be a blanket-wrapped comfy chair wondering through Schjerfbeck’s portraits, a slow hike with the hound in the ice-frosted woods as spring subtly hints of its awakening, or a full-voice singalong with the new Broadway recording of “Ragtime.” Or maybe, just a spoonful of home-cooked butterscotch pudding, topped with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream and sprinkled with a decadent dash of mini dark chocolate chips.
“Cook not to impress, but to restore.” – Barbara O’Neill.
Professor Butter Beard’s Butterscotch Pudding
Four portions
1 ¼ cups whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup dark brown sugar
¼ tsp fine sea salt
¼ tsp chili powder
Liaison:
¾ cup whole milk, cold
3 Tbsp cornstarch
4 egg yolks
Finishing:
3 Tbsp unsalted butter, room temperature
1 tsp vanilla paste
1) In a heavy medium saucepan, whisk together the 1 ¼ cups whole milk, 1 cup each of heavy cream and dark brown sugar, sea salt and chili powder. Slowly bring to a simmer over medium-low heat, whisking often.
2) In a medium glass bowl, whisk together the liaison – the cold milk, cornstarch and egg yolks.
3) When the milk/sugar mix reaches a simmer, temper (very slowly add) ¼ of the mixture into the liaison, whisking constantly. Add this mixture back into the original saucepan and whisk constantly over medium-low heat until thickened. Strain the pudding into a glass bowl and whisk in the butter and vanilla paste.
4) Portion the pudding into four serving containers. Lightly press plastic wrap squares onto the puddings in order to prevent a “skin” and then chill the puddings for at least two hours before serving.
