Vanilla Bean Custard

Believe it or not, I still have some egg yolks to deal with.  And I love pudding.  And hopefully this won’t turn out like it did last time.  But this recipe looks pretty simple and I’m sure I can handle it.  Fingers crossed.

First we’re going to infuse our milk.  In a small saucepan, combine 1 cup milk and 1 cup heavy cream.

Take a vanilla bean and split it in half lengthwise with a sharp knife.

Use the back of the knife to scrape the little seeds into your milk pan.  Dump the empty bean pod in there as well.

Cook your milk on medium heat for about 5 minutes until hot and steamy.  Make sure to stir often, and do not allow it to boil.  Remove it from the heat when it’s ready to go and carefully remove the vanilla bean pod.

In a heatproof bowl, whisk together 4 egg yolks, 1 tablespoon corn starch, and 1/3 cup superfine (caster) sugar (you can make caster sugar from granulated sugar by whazzing it in a grinder or food processor for a few seconds).

Whisking the whole time, drizzle the hot milk over the egg mixture.  You want to add it a little bit at a time so the yolks are heated up gradually and don’t have an opportunity to curdle.

Return the whole mixture to the saucepan and heat it up once again to medium.  Stir constantly for about 15 to 20 minutes, until the custard is thick enough to coat the back of your spoon.  Don’t allow the mixture to boil or it will curdle and that will be a mess.

Remove from the heat.  You can serve this warm as a sauce on top of stuff, or cold as a pudding.  Your choice!

Wingin’ It Wednesday: A Custard of Sorts

I had a million yolks leftover.  Like, a million.  And I like pudding.  So I thought I’d make some.  Kind of.

I started with about 6 tablespoons butter in a pot.

Then I  melted that and added in 2/3 cup brown sugar and let that get all melty and foamy.

Then I reduced the heat and whisked in 1/2 cup heavy cream (again, something I had leftover from other stuff).  Added a pinch of salt, then 2 cups milk.

In a bowl, I took my 6 egg yolks (for argument’s sake, let’s  say there were 6) and whisked them together with 1/4 cup cream and 3 tablespoons corn starch (because I wasn’t sure how custardy these yolks would be after sitting in the fridge all week).

Ever so slowly I whisked that into the hot sugar/milk on the stove.

Almost immediately the whole thing began to curdle, but I kept stirring, and then I added 2 tablespoons vanilla.

Then miraculously things smoothed out quite a bit.

Plopped that goo in ramekins and chucked them in the fridge.

Not really pudding.  Or custard.  But tasty.

The King of Cream Soups

This is a variation on my other cream of broccoli soup recipe, but I like this one better because it uses less cream and the thickener is cauliflower instead of starchy potatoes.

And I have called it the king of cream soups because it’s my favourite of them all.

And also because I found this old cushion cover embroidered by one of my great aunts and decided it would make a nice backdrop.

Start with your vegetables: onions, broccoli, and cauliflower. I ended up making a relatively small soup, so I only used 1 onion, 2 heads broccoli, and half a head cauliflower.

Chop the onion up relatively fine and heave it in a pot with some olive oil and some minced garlic. Sautée that on medium heat until the onions are translucent.

While that’s on the go, chop up your broccoli.

Shave the tough skin off the stems and use that as well.

Broccoli is good for you, so use it all.

Do the same with the cauliflower.

Heave those in the pot as well, and give them a stir.

At this point I added about 4 cups chicken stock, but you can use as much as you’d like, or water, or any other stock.  Enough to make a soup of it, I guess.

Then I simmered it until I could squish the cauliflower with the back of my spoon (broccoli will become squishier faster, so the cauliflower should be your test).

Then out comes my brszzht — I mean, immersion blender.

And now you add the sauciness: here we have dijon mustard, Worcestershire (“wooster”) sauce, a dash of cream and two big spoonfuls of plain yogurt. Give those a good stir to mix.

Serve it hot (I guess you could serve it cold if you liked, but that’s weird) with some grated cheddar cheese.

Fit for royalty?  Absolutely.

Pumpkin Creme Brulee

Because we didn’t get any trick-or-treaters this year (or any year), I was able to take the pumpkins from our pumpkin-off and cut them up shortly after we carved them in order to make use of all that lovely pumpkin flesh.  And I ended up, after hacking and cutting and boiling and puréeing, with 14 cups of usable pumpkin goo.  So you’re going to get a lot of pumpkin recipes.  I hope you like pumpkin.

I have never made crème brulée before.  But for many years, the Pie and I were in possession of a tiny butane brulée torch.  Then about two years ago I decided we were never going to make crème brulée and I got rid of it.  And THEN, after doing that, I discovered how freaking easy they were to make.  Yes, I did kick myself a little.  Not to fret, though: you can do the bruléeing with the help of your broiler.  It doesn’t do as even a job as a torch, so you have to rotate your ramekins while you’re doing it, but it does work.  And this pumpkin crème brûlée from The Foodess looks too easy and too lovely to resist.  In fact, way easier than regular crème brûlée.  So we’re doing it.

Preheat your oven to 325°F and set a kettle of water on the boil.  Find a large baking dish and eight 3/4 cup ramekins.  You’ll note here I used four ~1 1/3 cup ramekins.  You may need two baking dishes.

In a small saucepan, bring 2 cups whipping cream to a simmer.

In a large bowl, whisk together 2 cups pumpkin purée (the plain stuff, not the pie filling), 1/2 cup granulated sugar, 1/3 cup brown sugar, 5 egg yolks (save the whites for something awesome), 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract, a sprinkle of salt, and 2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice.

Ever so slowly, dribble the hot cream into the pumpkin mixture and whisk it up.

Divide the mixture among your ramekins and place them in the baking dishes.  Pour boiling water into the dishes until it comes about halfway up the sides of the ramekins.

Then pop that in the oven, middle rack, and bake for about 35 minutes (with my larger ramekins I baked mine for 55 minutes), until the centres of the puddings are just set.

Transfer the puddings to a wire rack to cool for 15 minutes, then chuck them in the fridge for at least two hours.  You can make these the day ahead, and you can even freeze the chilled ramekins to eat later.  Just wrap them up carefully before freezing.

Just before serving, you can take the puddings out of the fridge (or freezer) and sprinkle the tops of each with about 1 teaspoon granulated sugar (the plain white stuff works best for caramelizing).  If you’ve got one, use a brûlée torch to quickly and evenly caramelize the sugar and then serve immediately.

I didn’t have a brûlée torch (see above(, so I used my broiler.  Thing is, even if you move the puddings around under the broiler (easier said than done), they still don’t caramelize evenly.  So I had some charred spots and some spots that were hard and crackly, but not brown.  Not to mention that all that time under the broiler heated up the pudding itself, which is supposed to be served cold.  Alas.  But they were still super tasty, with a nice crackly top, despite what this picture may be telling you.

Make Your Own Yogurt — The Easy Way

I may have mentioned to you before that my new sister-in-law, Atlas, has the coolest mom, who may very well be my new hero.  This woman runs her own business, runs her family, runs the kitchen … essentially, she’s in charge of everything, but she does it in such a way that you don’t even notice.  And always with a big smile on her face.  Anyway, she gave me a recipe for making my own yogurt that doesn’t sound intimidating at all.

I remember my mother trying to make yogurt with that weird little machine and the starter and all that stuff, and how I hated what came out of it.  It had a weird skin on it and was super runny.  But this stuff?  Not the same.  So much easier.  So much better.   In fact, my own mother has adopted the process and there’s always a huge tub of fresh yogurt in her fridge as well.  The recipe I’m going to give you below has been halved, because there are only two of us in our little house.  However, now that I’ve made it and I see how quickly we use it, I will probably make a full batch next time!

So what you need is a large pot, a spoon, 2L homogenized milk, 500mL half-and-half (“blend cream” is what they call it here), and about 1/2 cup plain yogurt (with no gelatin) as your starter.

In the pot, stir your milks together and bring them to a boil.

When they boil, they will foam the heck up, so stir vigorously for a minute before removing the pot from the heat.  Mine may have boiled over.  Twice.  I may have shouted some choice four-letter words.  Several times.  Note to self: next time, use a bigger pot.

Leave the milk to cool to a nice warmer-than-room temperature (Atlas’s mom says somewhere between 40°C and 50°C). She says to stick your finger in it to feel if it’s warm. I decided, in the interests of science, to use a thermometer to confirm.  For your edification, 114°F is about 46°C.

Mmm, milk skin … you can just get rid of that.

Then add your 1/2 cup yogurt and give that a stir.

Put the lid on the pot (or pour it in a container with a lid), wrap the whole thing in a blanket, and put it somewhere warm for 6-8 hours (or overnight).  Atlas’s mom puts it in the turned-off oven with the oven light on, but our oven doesn’t have a light, so I put it in our living room on top of the Pie’s computer.  It seemed to do the trick.

And you can easily turn this into strained yogurt (“Greek” yogurt) by straining it for a few hours through a cheesecloth.  After 8 hours on top of the computer, I lined a colander with cheesecloth and dumped the yogurt in.  I let it sit over another bowl overnight in the fridge to drain off the whey and this thick loveliness is what came out of it.

Goes great in soups and stews, in dips like tzatziki, on breakfast cereals, with a little honey and some strawberries … you name it.

Chocolate Fudge Ice Cream

Happy Birthday Caity!  Welcome to thirty!

I swear that this is not poo.

I don’t know if you know this, but the original plan, eight years ago now, was that Stef and I were going to set up Cait with the Pie.  They’re both complete computer nerds, skinny jerks, and their birthdays are only four days apart.  What could possibly go wrong?  Needless to say, it didn’t happen, to everyone’s relief.  Anyway, today Cait turns thirty, and I’m pleased to say that now we have been friends for over half our lives. Pretty heady stuff when you’re a girl who rarely stayed in one place longer than five years growing up.

In continuing the birthday theme, I am going to give you the recipe for the chocolate fudge ice cream you saw in the Pie’s ice cream birthday cake on Monday.

I took this recipe (and modified it only a tiny bit) from My Lemony Kitchen, and I think it’s tops, even though I am not particularly fond of chocolate ice cream.  It is, however, a very British recipe, and everything is in metric, including the measurements for a substance known as GOLDEN SYRUP.  Fortunately in Newfoundland, where we love everything British, this was easy to find.  This partially inverted refiners syruptastes kind of like molasses, and kind of like corn syrup.

It’s extremely sweet.  And good for serving with “sweet puds.”  Can any of my UK readers tell me what exactly a PUD is?  I am on tenterhooks to know.

This is where your handy dandy kitchen scale is very useful.  If you don’t have one, you should get one.  They are always worth it.

So.  Ice cream.  In a pot with a heavy base, pour 300mL whole milk.

Chop up 100g dark chocolate and scoop up 25g butter and add those to the mix.

Heat on medium, stirring often, until everything is melted and smooth.

Measure out 125g sugar and 75g golden syrup.  I weighed the syrup on top of the sugar, so that the whole thing just slid into the pot and I wasn’t left with a sticky mess.  Clever, eh?

Add the sugars to the pot and raise the heat to bring the mixture to a boil.  Reduce the heat and allow to simmer for about four minutes.  Then remove the whole thing from the heat and allow it to cool until it’s just warm.

In a mixing bowl, beat up 4 eggs.  Slowly, stirring the whole time, pour the slightly warm chocolate mixture into the eggs.

Strain this whole thing into a heatproof bowl or the top of a double-boiler.  You may need to scrape the bottom of the strainer occasionally, as the egg whites are quite membranous.

Plop the bowl full of chocolate onto a pot of barely simmering water and cook until it thickens and coats the back of your spoon.  Now you have custard.

Something caught fire under my burner at this point, but I like to believe that the delicious smoky taste to my chocolate ice cream was not accidental.

Remove the chocolate custard from the heat and stir in 300mL heavy or whipping cream.

I also added in a few tablespoons of crème de cacao as a softener.  You’ll note that the packing tape was still on the lid from when we moved in four years ago.  It’s not a popular liqueur in this house.

Allow your mixture to cool completely and store it in the fridge overnight.

Then churn it in your ice cream maker according to the machine’s instructions and then do with it what you will.

I smoothed mine into an ice cream cake but I bet it would be great by itself, or maybe with some fudge sauce …

The Pie’s I’m-Turning-Old Ice Cream Birthday Cake, with Fudge Sauce

I will let you in on the worst-kept secret in our family: Saturday was the Pie’s thirtieth birthday.  He’s finally as old as me and will (hopefully) shut up about my aging process.

The Pie’s birth flower is the delphinium. That peony just happened to be there.

Now, for me, being born the week before March Break, as a child I often celebrated more than one birthday.  There was my actual birthday, then there was one when my grandparents came to visit the following week, and then maybe one with my friends from school.  Through no fault of my own, this happened consistently through to my adulthood, just little low-key celebrations dotting a week of aging, with maybe a cake at the end of it.  For the Pie it’s a bit different. Because he was born in the summer, all of his friends were out of school and so he generally had one big bash to celebrate his big day.  Needless to say, since we became broke and moved to Newfoundland, his expectations have taken a hit.  Fortunately, Papa John and Mrs. Nice are in town, so we can make it a bit of a party.

One of his “big boy” gifts: a sweatshirt designed to look like Optimus Prime. If you zip the hood all the way up it forms Prime’s large blue head, with mesh eyeholes. It wouldn’t zip over the Pie’s rather prominent nose.

As a rule (because we’re broke), we don’t exchange gifts, but on our birthdays, the other makes the celebrant a cake.  Last year, I made the Pie that disastrous leaning tower of chocolate.  This year I thought I would try for something a little more refreshing, given that it is summer, after all: ice cream cake!  Having watched several of the bloggers I read try and fail at this feat last summer (Caroline, I’m thinking of you!), I think I know what NOT to do, so here goes …

Start with a springform pan.  The fact that you can dismantle it means that getting the cake out when you’re done won’t be that hard.

Now you need some ice cream flavours.  One of our favourite restaurants in St. John’s, Get Stuffed, used to have this boozy ice cream cake, where the three layers of ice cream were flavoured with various liqueurs.  It.  Was.  Fabulous.  So I’m going to try to recreate that, but with a little less booze.  Just a little less.

I’m using ice creams I made from scratch, but you can use store-bought ice cream that has been softened.  The first layer, at the top of the cake, is raspberry (you can see the recipe here, though this time I used cognac instead of vinegar!).  Simply spoon 2 or 3 cups of softened ice cream into the bottom of the pan and smooth it out.  In retrospect, I should have frozen the empty pan before plopping the ice cream in it, because just-churned ice cream on a hot day has a habit of melting, and this seeped through the edges of the pan a bit before it re-froze.  No big deal, just something to remember for next time.

You might also want to scrape down the sides a bit, just so residual ice cream doesn’t interfere with the look of the following layer.

This cake took a couple of days to make, because each ice cream mixture needs to sit in the fridge overnight before you churn and freeze it, but that gave each layer ample time to get nice and solid before I added the next one.

The middle layer is vanilla, and the Pie loves his vanilla ice cream, so I used the best recipe possible.

Because the pan was frozen and the ice cream underneath was frozen, it was an easy job to smooth on this layer.

Then a chocolate layer.  Neither the Pie nor I are particularly fond of chocolate ice cream, but I have never seen an ice cream cake, especially one with a fudge layer, without it, so it had to go in.

You will be able to see the recipe here on Wednesday.

So, with that all frozen, I could work on my chocolate fudge layer, which, in my opinion, was always the best part of the store-bought ice cream cake.  Fudge sauce recipes abound on the internet, but I was looking for something with a bit of substance, something that would take well to freezing, and this one from The Foodess seemed perfect.  She even said it went well in ice cream cakes.

Making it was super easy, too, which I like.  I did it on the stove, but The Foodess recommends working with the microwave, so that should tell you how easy it is.

In a small saucepan with a thick bottom, pour 3/4 cup granulated sugar, 1/2 cup powdered cocoa, and 1/2 cup heavy cream or milk (I used homogenized milk here).

Heat, stirring often, until the sugar dissolves, and bring the mixture to a boil, all of which should take about 3 minutes.

Add in 4 tablespoons butter and cook for another few minutes, stirring occasionally, until the mixture thickens.  You might want to turn the heat down a little bit, so that the sauce doesn’t burn.

Remove the sauce from the heat, add in 1 teaspoon vanilla and a pinch of salt and you’re all done.  Wasn’t that easy?

Let that cool before smoothing it onto your final ice cream layer. Mine was in the fridge overnight and so I just stuck it in the microwave for a minute to soften it up a bit.

It slathered onto the frozen chocolate layer quite nicely.

Then you want a crumb crust.  You can use Oreo crumbs, but I also had some leftover pieces from some particularly crumbly gluten-free brownies that were in the freezer, so I pulsed them in the food processor and used them instead, which meant that everything in the cake was made from scratch (you gotta put in the extra effort sometimes).

 

 

As an aside, I also broke my mini food processor doing this — not because of the density of the brownies, but through my own mishandling of the situation.  Alas.

Smooth the crumbs over the fudge layer.

Right to the edge. Yes, I licked the fudge off my finger later.

Press that stuff down and re-freeze for a couple of hours.

To serve, run a bit of hot water around the edges of the springform pan and release the cake, flipping it upside down onto a plate (make sure it’s a plate with a lip, otherwise the cake will dribble everywhere as it melts).

I used an icing scraper to texturize the sides and scrape away dribbles from other flavours that ruined the effect.

Then I used a fondant smoother to get rid of the weird melty marks on the top.

You can decorate it any way you want, but the Pie is a huge Street Fighter fan and he plays the character of Hakan, a Turkish oil wrestler.  So I bought some teal and white icing from Sobeys and put a stylized version of his face on the cake, as his skin is almost the same colour as the raspberry ice cream (okay so now not everything is made from scratch. Sue me).

Cover the cake with plastic wrap or seal in a container and store in the freezer when you’re not eating it.

New Potatos au Gratin

Au gratin dishes are the ultimate in comfort food to me.  If you were wondering, ”gratin“ is of French etymology, coming from a combination of the words “gratter” (to scrape or to grate) and “gratiné” (having a crust or skin).  So it’s any baked dish with a nice crust on top, usually made with bread crumbs or melted cheese.  So much cheese.

For Easter dinner I bought some new potatoes in homage to spring.  And then I wanted to cover them with cheese, in homage to the fact that the weather is still miserable here and it might as well be winter yet.  This recipe is in essence the same as the one I made with Jerusalem artichokes last year, but with a few tweaks to reflect the season.

Preheat your oven to 350°F.

Start with your potatoes, however many will fit in the dish you wish to use.  Use a mandolin to slice them super thin.  I prefer them thin over thick, because they cook faster, and it means I don’t have to let them cook in the pan first before putting on the cheese crust.  I can put the cheese on before I bung it in the oven and I don’t have to worry about it burning.  I like to give them a rinse in cold water, too, to get rid of some of the starch.

In a measuring cup, pour about 2/3 cup heavy cream.  Obviously if you’re just making a small dish you can use less.

Fill it to about the 1 1/2 cup mark with milk and liberally add ground black pepper.  Give that a stir.

Grate a whole heckuva lotta cheese.  I have a mix here of gruyère and aged cheddar.

While you’re at it, chop up a bunch of Italian parsley.

Generously butter the dish you want to serve your potatoes in.  Line the bottom with a layer of potatoes.

Sprinkle on some parsley, then some cheese.

Repeat that until you get to the top layer.  Sprinkle on your parsley, then pour your milk mixture all over the whole thing.

THEN cover it with the rest of the cheese.

Pop that baby in the oven and bake until the top is crusty and bubbling, about 25 minutes. Enjoy!

Sweet Bread Pudding with Squash and Tres Leches Sauce

Second bread pudding of the week.  And this one is also made of squash.  But here’s the kicker: this one is a sweet one, a bread pudding you can have for dessert or even breakfast.  A very rich breakfast.  When the Pie and I ate this dish last Sunday morning we had to go and have a nap afterwards.  But it was worth it.

There’s a bunch of this that you can do the day before, to save yourself time.

First,  you roast a butternut squash at 400°F until it’s all tender and squishy, about 30-45 minutes.

If that doesn’t do the trick you can always put it in the microwave.

Cut up a baguette into chunks and leave it overnight to go stale.  If you’ve already got a stale one then you don’t have to wait for it, obviously.

Now the tres leches sauce takes about 45 minutes to make so you will probably want to do this the night before.

In a medium saucepan, bring a 12oz can of evaporated milk (I actually used coconut milk because that’s what I had on hand) and 6 tablespoons granulated sugar to a boil.

See how it’s all nice and foamy.

Dissolve 1/8 teaspoon baking soda in 2 teaspoons warm water and chuck that in as well.  Be wary of the foaming milk.  Keep stirring.

Reduce the heat to medium and keep it simmering.  Stir it frequently while it cooks, for about 30 minutes, until it’s significantly reduced and a light caramel in colour.

Add in 1 can sweetened condensed milk and 1 cup whipping cream and stir it around until it’s all warm and thoroughly mixed.

Now let it cool until it’s just warm and then you can serve it.  Or bung it into the fridge overnight.

So onto the bread pudding.  Set your oven at 350°F and butter a large casserole dish.

Take half your squash and plop it in a blender with 1/2 cup granulated sugar.

Add in 1 1/2 cups half-and-half milk (or use regular low-fat milk mixed with your preferred amount of cream), some freshly grated nutmeg, a pinch or two of garam masala, and a shake of cinnamon.

Give that whirl, then add 5 large eggs and whirl it again until just combined.

As for the other half of your squash, use a fork to roughly mash it up with 1/2 cup brown sugar.

Plop your stale bread chunks in a large bowl and add in the milk/squash mixture as well as the rest of your half-and-half.  Let that sit for a few minutes.

Dump in the rest of the squash and stir it around.

Pour it into the casserole dish and bake it for 30 minutes, until it’s all solid and browned.

Serve hot, either as a breakfast or as a dessert.

Drizzled with tres leches sauce it’s not a healthy breakfast but it sure is good.

Cream of Broccoli Soup

I was talking to Cait over GoogleChat the other day and she was scarfing down some cream of broccoli soup, a dish I adore.  She rubbed it in a little bit that she had some and I didn’t.  So I figured I’d blend myself up a batch.  And I thought that you could, too, if you wanted to.

Start with some onions.  Dice them up pretty finely.

Chuck them in a large pot with some garlic and a bit of olive oil and butter.  Let that cook on medium-high heat until the onions are translucent.

While that’s going on, you can start on your broccoli.  I used three heads of broccoli, chopped up, including the stems.  Use a vegetable peeler to get rid of the tough skin.

Then I also sliced up about two stalks of celery.

And cubed up several small potatoes. I leave the skins on for texture and vitamins but that’s up to you if you want to remove them.

Those go in the pot too, as well as about 4 cups chicken broth (you can use vegetable broth if you are feeling vegetarian).

Cover that and let it simmer for 20-30 minutes, until everything, including the potatoes, is tender and squishable.

Then remove it from the heat and use an immersion blender or a food processor to blend the soup to your ideal of smoothness.  I like mine a little chunky.

Then you can add in your flavourings.  The first is obviously some form of cream or milk.  You can use sour cream or yogurt or coconut milk or soy milk or whatever you like.  I’m going to go traditional here and use some heavy cream.  We keep it in a small Nalgene bottle because then we can see how much we have left and we don’t have to deal with the cream crusties on the mouth of the carton.

Dijon mustard is also a popular addition to this soup.  The Pie hates mustard but as long as I use it in moderation in things he doesn’t mind.  It definitely adds to the taste.

And finally, you are going to need a shot or two of Worcestershire sauce.  That goes without saying.

So add in whatever you like.  Feel free to adjust to your personal taste.

Give it a stir so it’s all nicely mixed in.

And serve.  With crusty bread on the side and chives to top, or, if you are a real cream of broccoli fan, more grated cheddar cheese than is really sane.

That’s it, that’s all.  Easy, huh?