Custard Custard Custard Custard!

I keep clicking on “next blog” as if I hope to find some magical treasure trove of undiscovered talent who just happens to be one random click away from discovery. 

It would be awesome to get in on the ground floor of something for once - as opposed to constantly checking in about 5 years after peak popularity. As it stands, naturally, I haven’t. Everyone who uses blogger seems to be glibly recounting the exploits of their precious children and their adorable little faces you just want to squeeze until you just… can’t pretend to give a shit about your damn little wiener kids anymore. I know my 5 or so readers (19 on Facebook the last time I looked!) aren’t really a validation of my writing skills, and certainly no reason for me to brag about what I write here, but quite honestly there’s a certain amount of cases where something you happen to think is just so fantastic really isn’t. I can’t hate too much, I suppose some part of me thinks “write about what you want to write about, who am I to judge?” but an other part of me is an avid fan of STFU Parents (http://stfuparents.tumblr.com/) your blog is like sitting through someone else’s vacation slides. Except worse, because you’re using bandwidth that could be used for something like hardcore pornography - you know, something that’s of actual value to society.

My point is, I hate overzealous parents and I especially hate their kids.

Bakers are kind of the same way.

Not in the hating-children part, I like to think that part of my personality developed after a combination of years watching of George Carlin routines and having had to clean up after 150 screaming brats watching the latest mass-market CGI talking gerbil crap fest mass market movies those shrieking little bastards love.

What I mean is, bakers are a little overzealous when it comes to their product. They’re scientists, artisans, craftsmen. They measure everything meticulously, plan their next recipe days, weeks, or months ahead. They try and retry, and practice techniques until they have something perfect. I know, I’ve been a baker. But more importantly, I’ve worked under bakers. One particular baker who I did not particularly like working with (and who, quite luckily, did not happen to understand any of the German I was prone to responding in) was particularly proud of a Crème Brulee Tart special that consisted of a pastry crust, a layer of chocolate, custard, and finally caramelized sugar on top. As a low rung on the totem pole at this particular establishment I was expected to plate these particular dishes. Now, I had at this point worked previously at a restaurant where Crème Brulee was the top selling dish, and we got to use FIRE to get those bad boys out of the kitchen - literally we used a full sized butane torch. Here, on the other hand, we had to use what Alton Brown called “Glorified Cigarette Lighters” (If a Food Network host has to say that about a kitchen gadget - you know it has to be crap) which meant this product took longer to prepare and inevitably backed up the line. (Then again, maybe I was just terrible at it) So we had this tart which took an inordinate amount of time to put together, which the pastry chef had sweated over and spent weeks perfecting. Thing is, anyone who tried it didn’t particularly care for it. It was decent - but not up to the caliber that most people expected from the restaurant, and it certainly wasn’t what people who wanted Crème Brulee really wanted - they wanted a thick custard with a caramel top. The chocolate and the pastry crust just sort of got in the way. In the end the dessert just sort of petered out, but not before the pastry chef took the opportunity to show the pantry cooks exactly how to make it perfect - and not before said pastry chef took every opportunity to hop in and cradle their baby. I dunno, maybe I’m just griping because I really wanted to use a big boy torch again, but then again - I can’t shake the nagging feeling that if this particular pastry chef could’ve then we all would’ve read a long self indulgent rant on Facebook about how this pastry had changed their life.

Crème Brulee, though, is a fantastic dish. The classic preparation is one of my favorites. For a while it was my default “Panty Melter” dessert. (If it had only ever functioned as intended, however it not performing as such is more a result of my functional social ineptitude) so I thought I’d share my recipe for Crème Brulee - the custard base for which serves as an excellent binder for other foods like Bread Pudding.

THE INGREDIENTS:

1 QT (32 OZ) Heavy Cream
12 Egg Yolks
1 LB (16 OZ) Sugar
1 Vanilla Bean.
½ CUP White Sugar (for caramel topping)

THE PROCESS:

Phase I:
1) Whisk together the Egg Yolks and ½ of the Sugar until smooth in a mixing bowl.
2) Split the Vanilla Bean lengthwise using a paring knife, scrape out the inside.
3) Heat the Cream, the Vanilla Bean (the pod and the scrapings) and the remainder of the Sugar in a sauce pot over a low heat.
4) Using a towel, secure the mixing bowl with the egg mixture on a flat surface (so that when you whisk it the bowl will not tip)
5) Once the Cream Mixture has started to boil, remove it from the heat.
6) Slowly pour the Cream Mixture into the Egg Mixture, whisking constantly.
This is why it’s important to make sure the bowl is secure - unless you have a third hand there’s no way to hold everything in place and you will spill hot creamy goodness all over yourself (giggity)
7) Store the mixture in a container overnight - be sure to cover it with plastic wrap
The plastic wrap should touch the mixture, to help prevent a skin from developing; the skin is difficult to reincorporate into the mixture, and can affect your final product.

Phase II:
8) arrange several ramekins or other small ceramic dishes in a 9x13 cake pan or hotel pan.
9) pour enough water into the cake pan to cover the bottom of the pan up to ½ the height of the ramekins.
Don’t go any higher - otherwise it’ll be a colossal pain in the ass to move these guys into the oven.
10) pour the cream & egg mixture (custard) into the ramekins - to about 2/3 full.
11) cover the entire pan with aluminum foil, leaving about 2 inches in one of the corners uncovered.
12) bake at 200 degrees for 1-2 hours.
Be extra careful moving the custard into the oven - it won’t come out right if you get any water into the ramekins.
13) Remove, chill overnight.

Phase III:
14) Take the Chilled custard, sprinkle an even layer of white sugar
15)  Utilizing a butane torch, or your oven’s broiler setting heat the top of the custard until the sugar just caramelizes (turns brown-golden-brown).
16) Allow to sit for 1 minute - so the caramel solidifies.
17) Serve with Whipped Cream, Mint, or Fresh Fruit as you so desire.