Pudding

Before we opened either restaurant, Dahlia and I scoured our favorite Italian cookbooks to get ideas for desserts we might want to offer. The one that seemed to be in every book was budino, or pudding. We decided to serve butterscotch pudding because we both love American butterscotch pudding. It immediately became our signature dessert in the Pizzeria. And it still is the most talked about, written about, dreamed about, and ordered dessert we offer—at either restaurant. Two things to keep in mind for the success of the pudding are, first, that you heat the sugar in a heavy-bottomed saucepan so you can cook it sufficiently without it burning. But the real “secret,” which our intrepid recipe tester Lyn Root taught us, is that if the smoke alarm in your house doesn’t go off while you’re cooking the sugar, chances are you haven’t cooked the caramel long enough. We serve these in glasses, such as highball glasses, which look really pretty because you can see the different layers of ingredients. It’s also convenient in that you probably have plenty of such glasses at home. You will need twelve heat-resistant 8-ounce glasses or 7-ounce ramekins to make this.

Allowing the bread to soak in the custard batter for a full hour is the secret to a good bread-and-butter pudding.

For individual bread puddings, divide the mixture among eight buttered 6-ounce ramekins; reduce the cooking time to 40 minutes.

For individual servings, divide the pudding among six 6-ounce ramekins; reduce the cooking time to 25 minutes.

If you prefer to omit the bourbon, simply double the amount of hot water.

Bananas are a good source of potassium, which is an important nutrient for lowering blood pressure. These bananas, enhanced with brown sugar, cinnamon, and vanilla extract, crown brown rice pudding, which is served barely warm.

The stated purpose of my junior year abroad was to study at the famous London School of Economics, but the first thing I did when I got to England was land a part-time job at the Roux brothers’ (also famous) restaurant, Le Mazarin. Of all the challenges of living abroad, I never thought I’d have a problem finding something decent to eat. Boy, was I wrong. While the food we served guests at Le Mazarin was topnotch, staff meals were a different story. Stripped chicken carcasses, limp vegetable trimmings, and, if we were lucky, a box of just-add-water mashed-potato flakes were the components of just about every meal. The rest of London wasn’t offering many great options either at that time. Fish and chips and heavy pub fare dominated the food scene in the late eighties, before Britain’s culinary renaissance. The one thing I found worth eating (and could afford on the £10 a week my job paid) was scones with clotted cream and strawberries. And that’s exactly what I ate, for 6 straight months. After so many meals of strawberries and cream, it’s a wonder that I still love that combination. Panna cotta (“cooked cream”), a silken, eggless Italian custard, is an easy-to-make complement to perfectly ripe berries. I’ve added crème fraîche to the traditional recipe to balance the strawberries’ sweetness with some tang. You can make the panna cotta in individual ramekins and unmold them just before serving or make it in a large gratin dish and spoon it out at the table family-style.

When you crave a rich-tasting dessert that can be eaten the minute it’s done, this is a fine choice. I like to serve it with sliced apples, pears, and/or Asian pears on the side. The pudding can be used as a dip for the fruits as well.