Recipe Box Project

I don't want to brag (yes I do), but I have figured out why people always talk about buying bread and milk when bad weather rolls in, and the answer is simple: bread pudding.

I know it's technically March and we all thought spring was on the way, but if you're stuck under a blanket of snow dealing with the Beast from the East, then this is the perfect thing for you to make today. I mean, I literally got out of bed this morning with no intention of making it, and half an hour later I had a heaping serving for breakfast with a cup of tea, and 10 minutes after that, I'm here telling you about it. If you did any kind of prep for this snow storm, you have the ingredients for this bread pudding. It makes as good of a dessert as it does a luxurious breakfast, and why are you even still here when you could be in your (ahem, warm) kitchen whipping this up?

This is a custard-heavy bread pudding, meaning that the finished product is basically a crisped, toasty layer of bread atop a thick, sweet custard you can sink your spoon into, which is why it doesn't require much bread. If you prefer a 'breadier', more rustic pudding similar to a baked french toast, you can amp up the bread by cutting it into chunks and filling your pan.

If your cupboard is not bare, you can dress this up with a spoonful of vanilla, almond extract, or orange blossom water. Add texture with ½ of an orange's worth of zest, or a small handful of dried cherries or even some toasted chopped pecans for crunch. Sprinkle the finished dish with cinnamon, nutmeg or cardamom for a hint of spice, or just go for broke and have it plain- you won't regret it.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. Nothing this easy to make on a frigid day should receive anything less.

One year ago: Mocha Cake with Caramel Frosting
two years ago: Western Swiss Steak
three years ago (new!): Crepes

the recipe:

Custard Bread Pudding

the directions:

Preheat the oven to 175C/350F.
Butter your baking dish.
Toast the bread until just crisp but not yet browned.
Butter the toast, then brush with the 3 tbsp of milk and press into the bottom of your baking dish, slicing to fit if necessary.
Meanwhile beat eggs until foamy, then add sugar and beat until smooth and uniform.
Add milk and beat until well-blended.
If using vanilla or any other extracts, add them now.
Pour egg mixture over toast in baking dish and press bread back down, making sure it's fully saturated (it will float, but as long as it's saturated, you're good to go).
Bake 20-25 minutes until centre of dish just jiggles when you nudge it.
Sprinkle with cinnamon, if desired, and serve warm.

the ingredients:

Butter
2-3 slices of bread (3 slices of standard sandwich bread will neatly fill a 9-inch square baking dish, use less according to your plate size)
2 c + 3 tbsp milk, divided
3 eggs
1 c sugar
Optional garnishes according to your taste (see above for suggestions)

When I was in college, I had a friend who got married and got a subscription to Gourmet magazine (because, seriously, who but newlyweds thinks THAT'S a good idea?). She decided to make a recipe from it with her husband, and they spent all day mocking how the directions said 'puree the raspberries in the food processor for 4 seconds.' Not 5 seconds, not 'until smooth,' just 'four seconds.'

She and her husband mocked the recipe for weeks until they got around to making it, and then, just for giggles, they decided to follow the recipe to the letter, blending the raspberries for only four seconds. What happened? They got out their stopwatches, timed it, and at exactly four seconds, the raspberries went from lumpy to smooth, just like that.

I'm pretty sure she eventually preached a sermon using this as an illustration of how we should obey God even when we don't know why. Anyway, I've always remembered this story because I've always dreamed that someday I would be making a recipe and the same thing would happen to me: a really specific instruction would be given, and I would follow it, and the exact perfect result would occur.

Up until today, that had not happened, but then I made this coconut cream pie. ('Are you gonna throw it in my face?' Judson quipped hilariously). During the step where I made the custard, heating it over extremely low heat in what was supposed to be a double-boiler, the following happened:

I mixed the ingredients together. I heated them over low, stirring constantly, waiting for the mixture to thicken. I timed it, because I can never tell when custard thickens, and I was concerned I would miss it.

(I should not have been concerned.) The directions read as follows: 'Pour into double-boiler and cook over boiling water, stirring constantly until [mixture] thickens (5 min.), then cook 5 minutes more, stirring occasionally.

After 4:45 of stirring, my arm was tired and the mixture was still watery and thin. At 4:55, still watery and thin. At 5:00 on the dot, my arm suddenly slowed down in the mixture as it went from the texture of water to the texture of thick honey, immediately! Needless to say, throughout the rest of the recipe, I followed the directions to the letter, not wanting to cheat myself out of the product of a recipe that specific.

I was a little concerned when I started this recipe because it specifically calls for 'moist shredded coconut,' and, objections to the word 'moist' aside, I can't find anything but minced, desiccated coconut in Scotland which I was concerned would not fill out the pie nicely. (So concerned was I that I soaked my coconut for half an hour in dark rum before using it. TOTALLY worth it.) The pie came out just fine with the confetti-like bits of dry coconut instead of the larger, moister pieces I'm used to in the US, and either way you make it I would recommend adding some rum to the coconut first. It gives it a nice depth of flavour that I think complements the coconut wonderfully... and if you really go overboard with the run you could always make yourself a daiquiri with the remainder. It's like a classier version of Malibu!