Burnt Sugar Flan (aka Creme Caramel) - Recipe

Flan, aka Creme Caramel, with Burnt Sugar

I've never made flan before, so I had a bit of trepidation when my sister-in-law requested it for her birthday dinner. I knew I could count on Mr. Bayless's classic to send me down the right path, and the trust was well deserved. I opted to raise the degree of difficulty by making a single, large flan instead of individual ramekins. It is debatable which is more elegant, but to me the big one is quite dramatic and pleasing.

I literally pumped my fist and whooped when I inverted the custard and it came out with one big thwump, followed by a beautiful waterfall of caramel. The interior was perfectly smooth and creamy - neither so soft that it was disintegrating on the plate, nor overcooked and rubbery.

By the way, and I've looked at a bunch of recipes, there is really no difference between flan and creme caramel. Either one is a rich custard, baked with a caramel sauce, cooled, and served inverted. You can find recipes for both flan and creme caramel using whole milk, whole milk that has been simmered to reduce like in this recipe, condensed milk, heavy cream, or any combination of the above, and with a wide range of egg to milk ratios, so I don't think those can be considered defining factors.

We all felt that we were flan purists, so I didn't opt for any flavorings beyond vanilla. Besides reducing the recipe by 20% to suit the pan I wanted to use, the main other change I made to the original was to take the caramel all the way to the burned sugar stage. We recently had a burnt-sugar gelato from Poco Caretto that has taken ownership of a full third of my taste-cortex, so it was a no-brainer to push the flan in that direction.

Although I haven't made flan before, I have made enough custards to recognize the basic schtick. Two details to really focus on:

• Strain it very thoroughly before baking. Like one pass through a medium sieve and then two passes through a fine sieve. You really don't want even a trace of scrambled egg or milk skin in there.
• Recognize when it is done. A knife inserted in the center should come out clean or nearly so. But you don't want to go until there is no jiggle left. It is going to continue cooking and setting a bit when you take it out of the oven. Look for a slight gelatinous wobble when you move the dish, but definitely not a full-on liquid slosh.

If you choose to bake this in individual ramekins, and you have someone that prefers creme brulee to flan, the custard will work just fine. Simply leave the caramel out of their ramekin, and then brulee some sugar on the top in the usual way just before serving.

Burnt-Sugar Flan (aka Creme Caramel)
Adapted from Rick Bayless' Authentic Mexican (which you should absolutely own)
Serves 6-8
Requires milk-simmering time + cooling overnight (large flan) or a few hours (indvidual)
Vegetarian and gluten-free; not-vegan

For the custard:

• 6 1/2 cups whole milk
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 5 whole eggs
• 5 egg yolks
• 1.5 teaspoons vanilla extract
• pinch of salt

1. Combine the milk and sugar and simmer in a large, heavy saucepan. Simmer for about 45 minutes until reduced to 3 1/4 cups, stirring frequently to avoid scalding.
2. Beat the eggs, yolks, vanilla extract and salt in a large bowl. Slowly whisk in the hot milk so as to avoid cooking the eggs. Strain very thoroughly (see discussion above).
3. (If you like, you can do this all the day before and refrigerate, just gently warm it before baking.)

For the caramel and to bake the flan:

• 2/3 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup water

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Place a 1.5 quart, deep round casserole (a standard CorningWare size) or 8 individual ramekins, in a big roasting pan, deep enough to hold two inches of water safely.
2. Combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan. Stir once. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Cook without stirring until it begins to brown, and then swirl until it gets deep, dark brown. The picture above is deceptive because there is light shining through it. In your pot, it will look really quite dark and begin to have that distinctive burnt sugar smell.
3. Working quickly and carefully (melted sugar gives *horrible* burns), pour the caramel into the casserole or divide it among the ramekins. Immediately swirl them so that the sugar coats the sides and the bottom (if doing ramekins, swirl after filling each one). It will harden right away.
4. Pour in the custard.
5. Carefully fill the baking pan with 2" of boiling water. You might want to do that already on your oven rack. Cover with tinfoil.
6. Bake until a knife inserted in the center comes out cleanly, but stop when there is still some jiggle if you shake the mold. That will take about 30 minutes for ramekins or 45 minutes for a big one.
7. Cool thoroughly - overnight is best, but fot least several hours.
8. To serve, run a knife around the edge all the way to the bottom, cover with a plate, and invert. If necessary, give it a little thwack with your hand and it should come out beautifully, surrounded with a pool of burnt sugar caramel. Hell yes.

Heirloom Tomato Tart - Recipe

Heirloom Tomato Tart

While we are on a roll with the pastry crusts, let's not forget the wonderful savory possibilities! For this one I used the exact same crust as last week's crostata, but baked it in a tart pan and filled it with a tasty aged provolone, Purple Cherokee and Sungold tomatoes and basil.

A useful trick with fresh herbs is to add them twice; once early in the cooking for a deep, infused flavor and a second time at the very end, for the bright green notes.

You could serve this with a green salad for a light meal, or in smaller slices as an appetizer.

The tomatoes are of course going to give off a decent amount of moisture which will keep the bottom crust from being perfectly crispy, though it is still delicious. Brushing with olive oil first can help a bit. If you have the time, you could roast them separately and blind-bake the crust.

For a variation, you could substitute any flavorful cheese that melts well. Fresh thyme, parsley or rosemary would be good instead of (or in addition to) the basil. If you use the rosemary, mince it finely and only do the first addition - don't garnish with it.

Heirloom Tomato Tart
Makes one 11" tart, serves 4-6
Vegetarian (with dairy)

• 1 batch of the pastry recipe from this crostata
• small handful of fresh basil leaves, chiffonade (thinly sliced), divided in two parts
• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 1 cup grated aged provolone cheese
• 2 large heirloom tomatoes, cored and sliced parallel to their base (not vertically), about 1/4" thick - don't use the top or bottom slice
• handful of heirloom cherry tomatoes (preferably of a contrasting color), halved
• sea salt
• black pepper

1. Preheat oven to 400 F. Use convection if you have it, it will help get some moisture off of the tomatoes.
2. Roll the pastry out so that it is bigger than the base of your 11" tart pan by about 1/2" all the way around. Roll up on your pin and unroll over the tart pan. Push down into the corner and use a knife (carefully) to trim the top edge.
3. Brush the crust with olive oil.
4. Distribute the cheese and half of the basil.
5. Arrange the large slices of tomato, fitting them as closely together as possible. Fill in the areas between them with cherry tomatoes.
6. Bake for about 45 minutes, until the crust is golden brown. After about the first ten minutes of baking, prick all of the large tomatoes a few times with a fork to aid moisture release... even gently push down on them with the tines of the fork, without distorting their shape too much.
7. Remove from the oven and let cool ten minutes. Top with the remaining basil and a healthy dose of flaky sea salt and black pepper.

Rustic Peach and Nectarine Crostata - Recipe

Peach and Nectarine Crostata

Crostata: pie without the fuss. With a pie (or tart), it can be hard to make one as pretty as the picture I have in my mind, either cooling on Grandma's window sill or on the cover of Gourmet. Crostata takes my inability to make a precise pie and makes a rustic virtue of it!

I made this particular crostata with peaches and nectarines, but you can use just about any fruit that suits your mood. But wow, baked peaches are really good.

Now let's have a word with you guys who are afraid of making pastry crusts. I've been there. We can get you through this and have you making tender, flaky crusts. Learn to make flaky crusts and dogs will like you, members of the attractive sex will wink knowingly, and leprechauns will buy you a beer. It really isn't hard, you just have to focus on a few details:

• The butter and the water should be really, really cold
• Only spend 1 to 2 minutes working the butter into the flour
• I really like a pastry blender - my hands are too warm, and dirtying a whole food processor makes more work than neccessary
• Use only enough water to get the dough to form a shaggy mass
• Only work it just enough to form a ball
• Refrigerate before rolling out, then let it warm back up just slightly

Our whole goal here is to get well distributed pockets of butter that will separate layers of the dough, while minimizing gluten development.

Rustic Peach and Nectarine Crostata
Vegetarian; not vegan nor gluten-free
Serves 4-6

For the dough:

• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 6 tablespoons very cold butter cut into small cubes; if frozen you can do it carefully into slivers with a bread knife
• 2-4 tablespoons ice water

1. In a bowl, combine the flour, salt, and butter. Using a pastry blender (my preference), or your hands, work the butter into the flour until it mostly looks like coarse oatmeal. Limit this to at most 2 minutes. It is fine if there are still some larger chunks of butter.
2. Add two tablespoons of the ice water. Work this in with a fork for 60 seconds, then try to press a piece together with your hands. If you can form a ball, you are good. If not, add more ice cold water, a couple teaspoons at a time until you can make a big shaggy ball. You really want to err on the side of minimal water, and keep the total time for this step again to under two minutes. It is fine if there is a little bit of unincorporated flour left at the bottom. (The reason the water varies is it depends on the moisture content of both your flour and your butter.)
3. Dust a work surface with flour and flatten the dough into a disk, about 7" in diameter. Wrap it in plastic wrap, or better yet, put it in a gallon freezer bag. Press any little cracks in the edge together - this will make it easier to roll out. Refrigerate for at least one hour and up to two days.
4. Preheat oven to 400. Line a rimmed baking sheet with a silpat or parchment paper.
5. Remove the dough from the refrigerator and let warm up a bit until slightly pliable. This could be anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes depending on how well chilled it is. While still wrapped, give it several cathartic thwacks with your rolling pin to get a head start on rolling out. Now put it on your floured board, flour your rolling pin, and working from the center out and rotating after each push, form a circle about 13 inches or so in diameter. Roll up onto your pin and back out on the baking sheet. Refrigerate for 15 minutes.

For the tart:

• 4 large ripe peaches and/or nectarines, cut into about 10-12 slices each (no need to peel)
• 3 tablespoons melted butter
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons white sugar (sanding sugar if you have it)

1. Arrange the fruit in rings (or randomly) on the dough, leaving about a 1.5 inch rim around the outside. Roll the rim up around the fruit. You can do it totally rustically like you see in the picture above, or if you like, you can do a neater crimp.
2. Brush the rim with melted butter and drizzle the rest on the fruit. Sprinkle the brown sugar on the fruit, and the white or sanding sugar on the pastry.
3. Bake for about 40-50 minutes, until the crust is nicely golden brown.
4. Slice and serve. Probably with vanilla ice cream.