She certainly can, flan flan. Or, Annalena makes flan

Ragazzi, at the start, do not be deluded into thinking that Annalena has not made flan before.  No, no no.  Indeed, there was a time in her life when she made it frequently.  Why?  That is lost to time.  But as she made it this weekend, and at the request of  Julie Greenhorn, she thought about adding it to the blog, and figured "Oh, it's there, somewhere..."

To paraphrase one of Annalena's favorite songs  "WELL SHE ISN'T"  (can any of my music trivia readers tell me where that's from?).  Indeed, a surprise.  Has it been five years since Annalena went Latina with her desserts?  No, but flan was not one she made.  

Now, let us begin by understanding that to talk about flan is to see passions flare.  And Annalena has enough having to handle the passions that flare when she makes marinara sauce. Or uses heirloom beans instead of generic.  Or uses a stick of butter instead of 6 tablespoons.  So, with that in mind, and with the background that there are as many different approaches to flan as there are Iberians, let us begin.

Flan, as you probably know, is somewhat akin to caramel custard. Creme caramel, or whatever you want to call it.  Asking Spaniards to distinguish the two is likely to get you a look along the lines of "How stupid are you?"  Well... Annalena will not go there.  There are versions that are flavored, versions that are done in large molds, versions that are done in small molds.  Versions that have a dozen egg yolks in them, and versions that are done with cream, and only 4 eggs.  There are versions done with milk, there are versions with honey.  And as to the cooking.  Oh, dear.  There are stovetop flans.  There are flans which use brown sugar, and flans which use burned honey.    Heavens, it can make a lady crazy.  BUT... cutting through all of that, Annalena is going to present her version for you, which is about as easy to make as can be.  It also makes a deceptively light dessert which goes down very easily.  Before you reach for that second helping, however, make sure you note these ingredients.

To begin, you need 3 cups of whole milk, and a cup of heavy cream.  Mix this together in a bowl, together with four large eggs, and four additional egg yolks.  Use a whisk, and beat to combine, but please do not be too aggressive here.  One of the hallmarks of good flan, is the absence of air bubbles in the custard at the end.  Beating too aggressively will defeat that purpose.  Put that aside for now, because now we are going to make some caramel.

Have your baking containers ready.  Annalena strongly recommends ramekins, and small ones too: ones that do not hold more than about half a cup.  That means you will need at least 8.  "At least 8," because when ramekins are described as holding 4 ounces, that means all the way up to the tippy top.  You do not want to fill these to the tippy top, and your caramel is going to displace some volume too.  So, have 10, or even 11 ready.

NOW, for caramel making, and again, an area of much contention.  This is how Annalena makes hers.   Get a heavy pot with high sides, and put 3/4 cup of white sugar in it (vanilla sugar, if you have it), and half that much water.  Stir it together over low heat until it dissolves.  THEN STOP.  Many recipes tell you to keep stirring. DO NOT.  Just lower the heat, and don't get your face to close to it, and watch it carefully.  When the flan goes from light gold to a medium color gold, take the pot off the flame and swirl it, back and forth.  The sugar is going to continue to heat, and darken before your eyes.  Let it darken more than you think you want.  There is no heat, so you won't burn it.   Then, working quickly, pour as even and equal an amount of the caramel into as many of the ramekins as you can.  You may get 8, you may get ten, or you may get more.  Annalena got 8 with hers, and made three plain ones. 

That caramel will harden almost immediately.   Now, put the milk mixture into that very same pot, together with half a cup more of sugar.  There is also caramel in the pot.  At low heat, stir until the sugar has dissolved, and some of the caramel has melted, but no longer.  Get a ladle to help you, and fill the ramekins.   Not all the way to the top , but close. 

Set your oven to preheat to 325, and also heat a pot or teapot of water.  Don't worry about boiling, but get it hot.  Then put the ramekins in a big container, say a 9x13 baking pan, and pour water to halfway up the sides.  THis is going to be heavy, and it's going to be hot.  So protect your hands, and then put it in the oven.    Leave it alone for 30 minutes and check.  It won't be done, but Annalena wants you to see what it looks like.  Then continue to bake for fifteen minutes, and turn off the oven, leave the door opened, and let the stuff cool in there. 

When they are cool enough to handle, take them out of the pan, and refrigerate them overnight. 

When you're ready to eat, have a plate ready.  Run the back of a knife around the perimeter of the ramekin, put the plate on top of it, and then flip the whole thing upside down.  You will hear a very satisfying "plop" as the pudding comes out on the plate. 

Annalena likes this with fruit salad, or a fruit puree of some kind.  This time around, it was a mix of berries that were beginning to give her the stinkeye : rasp, black and blue.  With some sweet wine and a bit more sugar. 

It's not that hard, and this is one of those desserts which gets "oohs and ahhs"  Must be something about puddings,  one must surmise. 

So, if you want to yell "OLE!" in the kitchen when you are finished, no one will think you are silly if they do not see you.  And if they do, and do laugh at y ou.. no seconds for them.