It was just about a year ago when I had the butterscotch budino (an Italian baked custard) at Delancey. Sitting on top of its perfectly smooth camel colored cap was a pile of billowy cream with streaks of roasted banana throughout. I’ve always been a fan of pudding and its not-so distant cousins; panna cotta, pot de creme, budino, etc. so it was not too surprising that I enjoyed this dessert. What was surprising was the extent to which I enjoyed it. It was intended to be shared but I did not. Every little streak of creamy pudding that hid in the corners of the shallow jar it was served in became mine. I staked my claim after the first bitter, sweet and a bit salty taste. It reminded me of Nips, those candies that were tucked deep inside Grandma’s purse when I was a young girl. She would pull out one of the gold wrapped oval candies with their circular indentation in the middle and pass one down the pew to me during church. The nearly impossible task of unfolding the foil lined wrapper while not disrupting the service was a worthy price to pay for that sweet, toffee-like candy.

The whipped cream on top obliterated my firm prior conviction that cooked bananas tasted of cardboard mush. I happily humbled myself with mouthfuls of the roasted banana cream, accepting that bananas cooked in butter and brown sugar are quite fine indeed.

A year or maybe even two years later on a gray and drizzling January day the sudden urge for those flavors struck intensely. In my home version I opted for a simple butterscotch pudding omitting the need for an oven and the sometimes frightful water bath. I went back to my banana souflee making days at Spago while I briefly sauteed the bananas in butter and melted brown sugar. Just as the bananas started to take on a deep amber coat I splashed them with a bit of rum. Once cool I purreed the bananas then folded the sweet and very unlike cardboard mush mixture into whipped cream and placed a very generous amount on top of the creamy, sweet and that wonderfully familiar toffee flavored pudding.
This time I shared. Some.

Butterscotch Pudding with Roasted Banana Whipped Cream

Butterscotch Pudding
adapted from Gourmet 2009
makes 4 servings

This is an incredibly rich, sweet and pleasantly salted pudding. A few bites was sufficient for me (and then a few bites more every day for the next week). If you’d like less sweetness you can cut the sugar down to ½ cup.

3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
½ t kosher or flaky sea salt
2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon cornstarch
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Whisk together the brown sugar, cornstarch, and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a medium saucepan, then whisk in milk and cream. Bring to a boil over medium heat, whisking frequently. Continue to whisk for 1 minute then remove from heat and add the butter and vanilla. Pour into a bowl, then cover surface with wax paper or plastic wrap. Chill until cold, at least 1 1/2 hours.

Roasted Banana Whipped Cream

2 ripe bananas, cut in 1” chunks
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon Rum

2 cups softly whipped cream

In a large saucepan over medium high heat add the butter and brown sugar. Continually stir the sugar taking care so that it doesn’t scorch. Cook until the butter and sugar has melted together. Add the bananas and quickly cook for just about 1 minute. You want the edges to caramelize and coat in the sugar but you don’t want them to get too soft. Turn off the heat and carefully add the rum. Stir everything together and set this aside to cool.
Once cool puree the bananas in a food processor.

Add some of the banana mixture to the whipped cream and whisk to combine. This is done to taste. I added about half of the bananas but you can do more or less.

In so many ways I’m like a child. The very things that cause me to raise my voice or think less-than-pleasant thoughts toward them, I myself do. Sleeping in past 7:00 am, using a fork, sitting still for longer than thirty seconds, managing to keep a straight face while saying the word “underwear” – these things I can handle, but that’s how we differ. Throwing fits with legs pounding and arms flailing and having to re-learn the same lessons again and again? In these matters I’m pretty much a toddler.

Okay, so maybe my fits are a bit more mature but repeating the same mistakes and having to remind myself of previous lesson learned, in that there is no exaggeration. Currently I am re-learning the freedom in acceptance. In particular with accepting who I am and who I am not.

The longer I live the more I realize I have tendencies towards control and perfectionism. My perfectionist’s personality manifests itself in ways that are not at all closely related to keeping a perfectly manicured house (or fingernails for that matter). I tend to expect a lot of myself and seem to think that I can do it all. Apparently I am on the quest to earn my superhero cape. In my mind this caped woman does it all with grace and ease. She fights stains without creating pink socks, she cooks a well-planned meal and serves it on matching dishes, she serves all day then asks, “what’s next?” before she sits down, she doesn’t raise her voice to her children (as I JUST did) she is fulfilled and fulfills with joy. She doesn’t exist. Or maybe she does exist, but that’s not me.

There was a recent spell where I fought against who it was that I was created to be. I pushed through my days with some expectations put on myself, then was frustrated when the day ended and I was left feeling dissatisfied. It went on like this for weeks until arriving at a place of darkness and deep sadness.

After much thought and some changes I felt myself returning. It was then that I made the switch to choose acceptance. When a tinge of guilt enters into the thought process I simply redirect it and say, “this is who I am and this is who I am to be.” No longer is there a place to feel guilty for the things I am not, instead the reflection is on appreciating who it is that I am.

Now it is to be said that in any relationship be it friendship, marriage or parenting, there are sacrifices that must be made. That is, after all a real reflection of true love – one can not either be loved or love without the presence of sacrifice. But there comes a point when the sacrifice becomes too great and those relationships suffer as a result.

My family isn’t asking for me to sacrifice as much as I ask it of myself. In fact, they’ve already given me my cape and love me regardless of the pink socks and mismatched dishes. They love me for who I am and now it’s my turn to do the same.

While other things were more pressing than for me to turn to the stove I did it anyway. It may have been this or perhaps it was that, either way my mind was on nutmeg and I could not shake that thought.

In the process of simmering cream with vanilla beans so plump it’s as if at any moment they were going to burst spraying fragrant seeds and nutmeg that reeks of fallen leaves and cold evenings, I thought to appreciate the uncommon joy I feel during such a simple action. When the yolk released the white and landed in the bowl revealing it’s nearly neon color I paused to admire its tone as if I had never seen such a thing before – I have, many times. When finally dipping the spoon into a cool cream so impossibly smooth it caused a pleased grin to cover my face I re-learned that the delight in this process is part of who I am. A part I really enjoy.

The clothes still need folding and the toys must get picked up (at some point) but the fight is against the guilt that plagues when the call of perfection rings. Setting that guilt aside makes room for more joy, more life, more love, and more pot de creme. In this there is no guilt just delight.

One thing I know for sure, I will have to re-learn this at some point, and most likely at another point beyond that. I hope that each time the lesson becomes more poignant and that it is in the presence of Nutmeg Pot de Creme.

Nutmeg Pot de Creme

This softly spiced custard is reminiscent of egg nog and is destined to become a new holiday tradition. It is lightly sweet, cool and creamy and can easily be transformed into Nutmeg Creme Brulee with the addition of a torched sugar crust.

2 cups heavy cream

1 vanilla bean (or 2 tsp vanilla extract)

1 ½ teaspoon nutmeg, freshly ground

6 yolks

½ cup dark brown sugar

¼ teaspoon salt

Pre-heat your oven to 320*F

In a medium sauce pan add the cream, vanilla seeds and bean, and the nutmeg. Bring to a simmer then turn off the heat and let sit for 15 minutes.

In a medium bowl add the yolks, salt, and sugar. Whisk until lightened and well combined.

Bring the cream back up to a simmer. Turn off the heat and slowly add hot cream to the yolk mixture, stirring while pouring.

Strain this mixture with a fine mesh sieve to remove vanilla bean and unwanted egg bits.

Pour this into four oven-safe ramekins. Place these in a larger baking dish (I use a cake pan). Place this into the pre-heated oven then pour water into the baking dish holding the ramekins.

If you don’t want a bit of a skin on top of the pot de creme then place a sheet of foil over the ramekins. I leave the foil off as I prefer the slight textural difference you get when you bake it without a cover.

Bake for 30-45 minutes until the center of the custards still jiggle slightly when gently shaken. Start checking at 30 minutes then check every 5 minutes or so, until done. The custards will continue to set once out of the oven.

Let cool slightly then place them in the fridge to set - about 2 hours.

Just before serving sprinkle with a bit more freshly ground nutmeg.

These can also benefit from a sprinkling of sugar and a broiler or torch turning them into Nutmeg Creme Brulee - perfect for the holidays.