February 05, 2010
Frangelico Crème Brûlée
Filed under: The Black ArtsWhenever I prepare a festive meal that celebrates a phase of the agricultural year I try and keep two things in mind when planning the menu: what we're observing (and why), and how I can stay "on topic" by using seasonal food. (I know it might SEEM trivial, but our actions on the day - including what we consume and give thanks for - is supposed to reflect a very specific time in the year, and if you aren't focusing (or even incorporating) what was traditionally on-hand during the celebration, then you really aren't connecting with what the festivities were/are all about.)
Bride's Day - Imbolc, to most - is the first whisper of Spring during the Dark year. In a way, to me, it's Winter's first Harvest. Here in northeast Scotland the only evidence of the warmth to come are the pregnant ewes out in frosty fields. Right now the cloven-footed mothers-to-be have begun lactating, and soon they'll disappear from their brown and gray pastures to give birth to the next generation indoors. (<- Which, HOLY FUCK, I actually GOT TO SEE, but I'll save my pre-Imbolc pheasant entrails reading story for later.)
Imbolc, perhaps more so than any of the other sabbats in the Wheel of the Year, is white here. It's the pristine, crispy white of the Cailleach's bleached plaid that still blankets the earth. It's the dingy, ivory white of the sheeps' gnarled wool, and the color of the nutritious milk they've begun to weep. It's the unblemished white wedding dress of the Virgin Bride who, after spending Winter as a widow, whore and hag, has slowly begun to shake off age and death in preparation to become a young maiden again. (And, in more southernly extremes of the UK, I'm sure it's the awe-inspiring, living white of the very first snowdrops of the season - Spring's first flowers for the sacred marriage between Bride and the divine king.)
Milk, and all things creamy, thick and white (<- ME ATTEMPTING TO BE SUBTLE, ALTHOUGH PROBABLY FAILING MISERABLY) dominate my Imbolc landscape, so it's only fitting to finish our celebratory meal with a dessert that venerates the secreted life force. After a filling dinner of homemade corned beef, potatoes, root vegetables, fried oatcakes (skirlie) and bread we always finish off our Bride's Day ritual meal with an alcoholic-infused happy ending (<- HEE!): crème brûlée. (Do I know how to celebrate lactation, or what?)
The crème brûlée recipe below has been adapted from Grace Gutberlet's original recipe, Irish Cream Crème Brûlée.
INGREDIENTS:
* 2 cups (475 ml) heavy cream
* 1/3 cup (65 g) white sugar
* 6 egg yolks
* 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
* 3 tablespoons Irish cream liqueur
* superfine sugar as needed
METHOD:
01. Preheat oven to 300 degrees F (150 degrees C). Place 6 ramekins on a towel set in a roasting pan at least 3 inches deep.
02. Stir together cream and sugar in a saucepan over medium heat, and cook until very hot, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Whisk together egg yolks, vanilla, and Irish cream until combined. Slowly add 1/3 of the hot cream, whisking it in 2 tablespoons at a time until incorporated. Once you have incorporated 1/3 of the cream, you can stir in the remaining hot cream without fear of the mixture curdling.
03. Pour custard into the ramekins, then fill roasting pan with boiling hot water to come halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Bake in preheated oven until set, 50 to 60 minutes.
04. Once the custard has set, place ramekins on a wire rack, and allow to cool to room temperature, about 1 hour. Cover, and refrigerate until cold, about 4 hours. Custards may remain refrigerated until ready to serve.
05. Unwrap the custards, and sprinkle about 1 teaspoon of superfine sugar onto each. Gently shake the custards so the sugar coats the entire top surface, then tip the custards to a 45 degree angle and shake off excess sugar.
06. Using a small hand torch, melt the sugar by making short passes over top of the custards with the flame not quite touching. Continue melting the sugar until it turns deep brown. Once the sugar has melted and turned to caramel, the cold custard underneath will harden the sugar into a crispy crust. Serve immediately. Alternatively, the sugar-dusted custards may be browned underneath the broiler in the oven.
