Sunday afternoon my dear friend Secret Server (SS) came over and we made our “Tuesdays with Dorie” recipe together. This week’s recipe was suggested by the prolific Bridget of “The Way the Cookie Crumbles.”
But first we made dinner, a plate full of food reminscent of my parent’s 70’s kitchen, full of yellows, oranges, greens and browns:
Smokey mac’n’cheese = yellow, reddish-orange, green
Crescent rolls with butter = yellow and more yellow
Cauliflower, broccoli, carrots with cheese sauce = yellow, green, orange and more yellow
and for dessert?
Banana Pudding = yellow and brown
BTW, the smoky mac ‘n’ cheese was this recipe. It was really quite good; I used whole wheat pasta and really think you could leave off the crumb/parmesan topping.
While the meal was cooking we combined our super-secret-stashes of non-standard-sized ramekin-like containers and our custard making experience (I once made flan) to make the lemon cup custard.
Cooking together is always more fun. Especially when you aren’t feeling great and your friend does all the work!
SS got out the milk to steep the zest in, commenting, “I think there’s a pubic hair on your milk container.” Appetizing! And mysterious.
I’ve decided NOT to ponder that too much.
After the zest had steeped covered for half an hour, SS whisked the eggs with the sugar, and then I poured the warm milk/zest mixture into the sweetened eggs. We added an 1/8th a teaspoon of lemon extract.
Assembling our motley psuedo-ramekin collection, we poured the custard mix into the containers and surrounded them with simmering water.
After popping the custard into the oven, we partook in our monochromatic meal followed by a few games of bananagrams and some banana pudding.
Guess what? Neither “lude” nor “yut” is a word. (I guess the dictionary doesn’t include drug slang or the existence of a yurt/hut combo.) But, just FYI, “ho,” “woed,” “loper” and “qua” all are.
SS’s mad bananagram skilz were interrupted by the oven timer announcing the completion of our custard. She took it out of the oven and we peered at it. Not jiggly. Unlike my ass.
They were pretty, yellowy colored little blobs of solidified egg with a light lemon scent. We went ahead and tasted one.
Lemon scrambled eggs.
We covered them with plastic wrap and put them in the fridge to cool (the recipe recommends chilling them for at least two hours).
Struggling to use the word “qua” in a sentence, I popped a ‘lude, sat in my yurt-hut (yut!) and woed the time that SS and her lopers would have to depart, yelling forth “Lemon Cup Custard, Ho!” in encouragement.
Later that night, my brain taxed, I decided to further relax with a now-chilled custard. The verdict? I think, if you are a custard lover, these are probably delightful. I’m just more of a creamy chocolatey pots de creme type of chick.
Hence the jiggly ass.