Bread Pudding

Here we go back to New Orleans again, with Bourbon Street flair. Southern bourbon-soaked brioche bread makes a hearty Creole-style dessert.

Based on a dessert that Lo serves at Annisa, this custardy bread pudding is shot through with poppy seeds for a stunning visual and textural effect. The bread soaks overnight; begin 1 day ahead.

This fantastic dessert is perfect for the cool months of late fall and winter. Cubes of tender pumpkin bread are baked in a rich custard laced with bourbon and maple syrup. Crisp apple cider is the base of a buttery caramel sauce spiced with fresh ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, and star anise. Forget about serving the same-old pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving and put this out instead for a new twist on two old classics. The recipe includes directions for making your own pumpkin bread to use in the pudding, but you can of course also use a loaf of pumpkin bread from your favorite bakery. Brioche or cinnamon-raisin bread would also work perfectly.

Chris Ford, pastry chef at Washington, D.C.'s Rogue 24, brings this British-style "pudding" to picnics and BBQs. Serve with whipped cream and more berries.

When­ we ­decided­ to start serving brunch, we were determined to stick with the original concept of the restaurant, "tea turned on its ear," so we racked our brains to come up with a way to do french toast that was unique, fun, and, most important, tasty! We all tossed a bunch of ideas out there, and one of them was french toast bread pudding. All heads tilted curiously at this idea, so of course we tried it. The idea was for it to be like a true bread pudding—tea-infused, of course—but when the first batch came out, our chef said, "I don't think this one is right—the top is crisp and chewy, but the bottom may be mushy." We tried it, and lo and behold, there it was, the brunch item that would make eyes widen and taste buds explode: a layer of crisp and chewy french toast on top and a wonderfully gooey, creamy bread pudding infused with apricot brandy tea underneath. Note that you will need eight 2-inch-deep oven-safe glass bowls (8-ounce ramekins or crème brûlée dishes work well).

In these delicate and unassuming little puddings, the bread rises to the top, leaving a layer of silky custard below. Surround the puddings with a moat of the lively orange sauce.

This recipe is a lifer. I’ve been making it for more than 20 years, and every time I try to file it away, someone inevitably comes along asking for it. I brought it to my first staff get-together when I was working at Chez Panisse and, from then on, for all of the parties that followed, when I would even think of making something different, my friends and coworkers would cry out for this caramelized chocolate bread pudding. A few years later, the bread pudding gained an East Coast fan club, too. I was working at Alloro, a tiny restaurant in Boston’s Italian district. Back then, the Mafia owned all the local cafés and had a monopoly on the dessert-and-coffee crowd. Whereas the other (probably wiser) restaurants on the street obeyed the unspoken law of not selling dessert, at Alloro we broke the rule and secretly served this bread pudding to our in-the-know customers. We worked hard to keep the highly requested dessert under cover, and it seems we succeeded: both the recipe and I are still around. A few things make this bread pudding better than most. I love custards and am often disappointed by bread puddings with too much bread and not enough pudding. So be careful to use just a single layer of brioche, which creates a crispy crust but won’t absorb all the rich, silky custard underneath. Once you break through the caramelized, toasty top layer and dig down through the luscious custard, a treasure of melted chocolate awaits you at the bottom.

Bread pudding was originally created as a way to use up stale bread. Today, the dessert is a favorite in the U.K. and the U.S. Here, rich brioche is combined with a vanilla custard and pieces of tangy ginger-infused rhubarb.

I have never been a huge fan of bread pudding, but for some reason this bread pudding takes the cake, no pun intended. It combines just the right elements of sweet, tart, creamy, and crispy. Everyone who tries it becomes a fan.

Cooking the bread pudding in a loaf pan gives it a modern, bakery-style look. For a more decadent dessert, serve with vanilla ice cream.

Make this delicate dessert in a shallow ceramic baking dish so that when it's baked, all that's visible is a sea of golden, toasty caramelized bread slices.

Egg bread, bittersweet chocolate, and an intense caramel sauce combine to make this the ultimate comfort dessert. Be sure to start this recipe ahead of time. It takes about half an hour for the custard to soak into the bread.

This is probably my favorite dessert in the book. It looks and tastes like you struggled all day, yet from start to finish it takes less than 45 minutes to prepare (and 25 minutes of that is baking).

Bananas Foster—the New Orleans favorite—in bread-pudding form. The caramel sauce is especially rich and flavorful, thanks to a splash of dark rum.

Store-bought panettone is the foundation of this raisin and bread pudding. Because the bread is so eggy, it bakes into an extra-silky custard that contrasts with a generous expanse of buttery golden brown crispness on top. (Using a shallow pan is key.)

Dried cherries add a tart and festive flavor.

To complete the dessert buffet, bake a batch of Mexican wedding cakes (butter cookies rolled in powdered sugar).

Editor's note: The recipe is from Tracey Medeiros' book Dishing Up Vermont.

These restaurant-worthy treats are jazzed up with just a hint of Grand Marnier. They're turned out of the ramekins they're baked in to show off the ruby-red cranberries on the bottom.

Store-bought caramel sauce spiked with a little sea salt makes these fast and easy puddings something special.