Crème brûlée is the easiest fancy dessert, and I challenge you to find an easier and
simpler recipe for it than this one. It does not require a kitchen torch, it does not require
you to pre-cook your cream, it doesn't even require a water bath. The only unusual piece
of equipment you need is the ramekins themselves. This recipe is formulated for the standard
5 oz kind.
Here's the custard: One serving is one egg yolk, one tablespoon of sugar, one teaspoon
vanilla extract, and enough heavy cream to give you one half cup total of liquid. That's
it, that's ready to go into the oven.
Today I'm gonna do enough for four custards. Four egg yolks (you can Rocky-chug those whites
later), four tablespoons sugar, beat that up with a fork, and really give it a go. We're
not gonna bother straining the custard, so you really wanna bash this up to make sure
there's no big globs of sugar or egg protein. Four teaspoons of vanilla, that's a tablespoon
plus one teaspoon. Use less vanilla if that's too strong for you, but to me, it's the star
of this dessert. Then enough heavy cream to give me two cups total of custard. Proportionally
that's less egg than people normally use, but that ensures the custard won't overcoagulate
and go gritty, since we're not gonna be using a water bath.
I mean, use a water bath if you want to. The low maximum heat of water keeps the edge of
the ramekins from getting too hot and overcooking the outer rim of custard. But I always slosh
it around, I always burn myself, I think it's a pain.
I just do a low-protein custard base, and a low oven temperature: 250 F. When you pour
these in, you fill to that line. That line is 4 ounces, or half a cup, precisely. Easy.
Now before I put these in, watch what happens when I kinda tap them, or nudge them. Just
remember how those ripples look.
You can put those right onto the middle rack, 250 F, done. They'll take maybe 45 minutes
in there, depends on your oven. Here's how you know if they're done: You just open up
the door and nudge them again. Just tap it quickly, you're not gonna burn yourself. See
how it looks like a loose gelatin? Remember how the ripples looked when it was totally
liquid, and now compare how they look when the custard is done. I know they seem underdone,
but trust me, the custard will firm up solid as it cools. If it wasn't super wobbly like
that, it'd be a hockey puck by the time you ate it.
When they're cool enough to touch, you're good to move them to the fridge. They'll be
cool enough to eat after maybe a half hour in there, but I prefer to chill them overnight,
and when you chill them that long, you want to cover them, otherwise they can dry out,
and they can pick up funny odors from the fridge.
It's the perfect dinner party dessert, because you can do all this the day before.
So traditionally, here's what you do. You spoon on some sugar and smooth it out. I'm
on Team Very Thin Layer of Sugar. Then you blast it with a butane torch and it helps
if you kinda rotate it as as you go, that gets you an even layer. That's nice, that's
lovely, but say you don't have a torch. Some people put them under the broiler. Very high
rack, very hot broiler. Leave the door open. You want to minimize convective and conductive
heat warming up the custard. You just want the radiative heat from the broiler to caramelize
the sugar, and in my oven, six minutes later it was done. Problem is, the custard is now
hot, and by the time you cool it down, the candy top won't be as crunchy, and it's not
that crunchy now — it's more crumbly in texture.
I say forget the broiler. Get your smallest pan, and throw in one tablespoon of sugar
per custard, a tiny squeeze of honey to prevent crystallization, and a few drops of water
to get this thing started melting. Put it on medium heat, stir around until it's mixed
up, and get rid of that spatula, you'll never stir this again. It doesn't matter that there's
crystals on the side there. The honey will stop the syrup from seizing. Corn syrup would
do an even better job. Brits, your golden syrup would work.
Just wait like 10 minutes until it turns amber and then it'll suddenly go much more fluid.
It's hard to make caramel at home, because it burns so easily, but guess what: We want
this to burn! Brûlée means burned! When it's just getting dark you'll see little wisps
of smoke coming off it. Turn off the heat, and then the only tricky part is judging how
much caramel to pour on, because too much is no good. You want a thin candy layer that
you can easily crack through. I was obviously too conservative with this one and had to
keep pouring on more. You roll it around to get it even and smooth, and note that I have
the caramel on the still-hot burner while I do this — that's to keep it liquid. Heat's
off, it won't burn. Move onto the next one, and that time I judged the amount better.
Only had to give it one more dose to get it covered. Let that cool for a few minutes until
it's set hard, and there you go.
Yes, compared to the torched version, that is clear and glassy. But who's to say that's
a bad thing? In the mirror universe where the caramel version developed as the traditional
method, me with a goatee is probably saying, "Yeah, you know, this newfangled torch method
doesn't get you that clear, glassy effect that tradition really demands, but it's an
OK substitution. Long live the Empire."
OK, time for that wonderful sound.
Oh yeah, and look at that custard underneath, totally smooth and soft, even without the
water bath. The candy topping still totally has that slightly burned flavor that contrasts
beautifully with the sweet custard. So good, and I love that the custard is still cold.
Oh, and if you're like, OMG, how am I gonna clean this pan? Just let it soak in water
for a few minutes. Sugar dissolves in water. Done.