Custard without tears

Custards and puddings scare people. There's no question about it. Everyone loves them, but when you see recipes for most of them, you can understand what is intimidating about them. WATER BATHS!!!! Oh, my heavens. A big pot of boiling water, poured into a bigger pan, water splashing everywhere, and then baking for untold amounts of time, and then getting that big pan out, hoping you won't spill on the floor, or yourself (and you always do), and then having to wait for hours for it to cool. And then it CRACKS!!!! This may explain somewhat the reliance on the packaged garbage that you can buy in the supermarket and "just add milk" to make something vile in a color not seen in nature, but it definitely explains the fear of making custard.

As part of a Spanish dinner that I am serving on Sunday, I got it in my head to make "crema catalana," which one friend has told me "is really creme brulee" . Now that I've made it, I respectfully dissent. This is MUCH easier, and it's much tastier, at least in my opinion. It does take that burnt sugar crust on the top, but having done my duty and scraped the pot to get the remnants of the custard before I washed it, I would eat this without the crust and be perfectly happy.

When I started reading recipes for this dessert, I was somewhat astounded to find that none of them, and I mean NONE of them, called for baking the custard. No water baths, no boiling water, no instructions on how to cool the thing slowly so it didn't crack on the top, none of that. So, with the weight of authority behind me, I set out to make it.

It's good. And it's easy. And I think it is one of the "basic black dresses" of the kitchen from now on. I'll explain that below.

This is a recipe for eight portions. It is VERY rich. Cut it in half if you don't have that many people. I don't see how someone could eat two portions, but I actually got nine servings out of this recipe, and I'm sure that someone will eat that extra one.

You start out with a quart of whole milk. Add the peel of one lemon to that milk, as well as two sticks of cinnamon (don't use the powdered stuff). Put this all in a heavy duty sauce pot, and then turn on the heat at low. Heat the milk until you just get a bit of a bubble on the perimeter, and when that happens, let it simmer (don't let it boil), for ten minutes.

While that is happening, separate eight large eggs. You'll only need the yolks, so give the whites to your friend who eats those gross eggwhite omelets, or to your local weightlifter. Combine those in a bowl with 3/4 cup of white sugar, and a tablespoon and a half of corn starch. Use a whisk to get everything combined well. Do this in a big bowl.

After the milk has heated for ten minutes, you will have steeped the flavor of cinnamon and lemon into it. It's a great combination, trust me on that. Now, get a collander, and pour the milk through it, into the eggs. The pouring will actually reduce the heat enough so that you don't have to worry about curdling, and it will do a much better job at separating out the lemon peel than you could do by yourself (I speak from experience, my children). Mix the eggs and milk together, and then put everything back in the original pot. Bring the heat to medium/low, and stir or better, whisk, constantly, for about five minutes. Again, don't let things boil. You'll see the mix begin to thicken seriously, and get shiny. This is what you're looking for.

When you're there, get eight half cup containers ready. If you do want to make the crust of sugar, make sure they're something oven safe, like ceramic ramekins. If you can do without it, anything that holds half a cup will do. Pour the stuff out evenly (have an extra one ready. I was glad I did), and let the containers cool on a counter or something, while you sit there and lick out the pan. When they're cool, you'll see that they've thickened and set pretty well. Put a piece of plastic wrap over each one, and then refrigerate them. They'll keep in the fridge for a while.

When you're ready to serve them, and not before, preheat your boiler. Sprinkle about a teaspoon of sugar - turbinado sugar if you have it - over each one. Line them up on a baking sheet, and put that under a broiler. Keep an eye on it. It won't take long for the sugar to melt, brown, and carmelize. Now you have to serve them. I mean, like NOW. You have a window of about thirty minutes before the sugar begins to soften, and people like being able to CRACK that "mirror" of sugar.

So, why is this a "basic black dress" of cooking? Well, look at the ingredients: milk, eggs, sugar, cinnamon. You have those in the house just about all the time. Lemon peel? Who doesn't have a lemon? So, you've got a dish for all seasons. And how do you tailor it to make it seasonal?

I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. What you do is you look at what is available in the realm of fruit. For example, I had planned to serve this with grilled peaches and fresh berries. Then my buddy Sandra wrote me and told me she was sending me 40 figs. CHANGE OF PLANS. Grilled figs and raspberries. What I'll do is put a fig and a half on each plate, with the custard right in the center of the plate, and a few raspberries all over the place. In the winter, I'll switch to pear slices. In REALLY bad winter, blood oranges. Cometh the spring, strawberries and sugared rhubarb. Early summer? Blueberries, please.

Cook seasonally, but have a repertoire that gives you the room to play with classics. This is one. Now go forth my children, and cook some milk.