As part of my lifelong quest to win my parents’ approval of every single life decision that I’ll ever make (yep, totally healthy), I figured the time was long overdue for my family to meet Brian’s, and so my parents flew down from Maine (and my sister from Vermont) for just one night to attend the epic meeting dinner with my new, soon-to-be family.

I was anxious, but probably not for the reasons you’d assume. My parents love, love, love Brian, in fact, I think if they were allowed to choose between having him as a son or me as a daughter, well, that scenario could very well end with me being orphaned. Brian’s family, they of crazy dinner parties complete with hysterical, pants-wetting laughter, is non-intimidating and a lot of fun, so I didn’t have much to worry about there either.

There was still the usual stuff to worry about when entertaining parents, like fretting over house cleanliness, made extra challenging by the gaping leak holes in the ceiling and half our possessions packed up in duffles, stacked like sandbags against the wall. There’s also the constant maintenance – ensuring that we had the things that everyone likes to drink and that glasses are kept full, bussing and cleaning as we go (EPIC FAIL on this count) and ensuring that the man-eating siamese keeps his fangs in his mouth and out of the guests.

The toughest part for me is just all this chaos going on right now, it’s making me feel a little mental. My parents visited us back in May, before the big engagement, at which time I announced that I was leaving my job to go to culinary school, a decision that has left my mother visibly upset. We got engaged two weeks later. Happily, this turned out to be very good timing because that news took a bit of the sting away from the cooking bombshell for my mother, who just cannot understand why someone with a BA, an MS, and a great-paying job would want to scrap it all to go work in a kitchen.

I know that my mother’s opinion shouldn’t matter to me, but it definitely nags. So whenever I have the opportunity to demonstrate my skills in the kitchen, I take that opportunity very seriously. Brian was handling dinner, which left me to decide what dessert was going to be. I wanted to do something that we’d done in class, but with only two weeks of coursework under my belt, options were quite limited.

Riiiiight, cooking school, remember cooking school? I haven’t mentioned it a whole lot here, mostly because I’m struggling with how to present it in the blog. I’m learning a ton in school, and I leave each class with a variety of new tarts, custards, and cookies under my belt, but school is very focused on technique, not on innovation or flavor. There are only two recipes from school that I’d ever make again the way they are written, and this isn’t even one of them.

We did a chocolate pot de creme during the first week of school, and it came out silky and smooth. There wasn’t a thing wrong with it, but it also just tasted average to me, because we’d used just average ingredients. It was what I’ve started calling a “by the book” recipe, one that allows you to learn how to do something the right way without focusing on creativity or the extra ingredients it would require to be extraordinary. I knew I could do better, by applying my newly-learned technique to a more creative recipe and using top-notch ingredients. I only needed my new hero, pastry chef Kate Zuckerman, to inspire me.

Chef Zuckerman’s recipe takes a simple custard and infuses all this lovely, complex, slightly bitter caramel flavor into it, changing everything about the way it tastes. And after trying it, I’ll never think the same way about pot de creme again. The elegant ramekins filled with the smooth custard were the perfect canvas for me to dress up with the gorgeous edible flowers that I couldn’t resist buying at the market, and, most importantly, I’ve had a week free from so much as a mention about a certain disappointing life choice.

Chocolate Caramel Pot de Creme
Taken almost as is from The Sweet Life: Desserts from Chanterelle by Kate Zuckerman

Especially for recipes with only a few ingredients, it is critical that you use the best ingredients possible to get great results. I used Valrhona chocolate (66%) which definitely maximized flavor and smooth texture. I also splurged on my eggs, milk, and cream, all purchased from top-notch purveyors at the market. The eggs had brilliant golden-orange yolks and lent the perfect richness to the custard.

Makes eight 4-oz pots

1 cup sugar
Pinch of cream of tartar
2 cups heavy cream, plus an additional 1/4 cup for whipping
1 cup plus 3 tablespoons whole milk
5 oz. bittersweet chocolate (66 to 70% cocoa solids)
7 egg yolks
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon of vanilla bean paste 0r 1/4 vanilla bean, seeds scraped (optional, for whipped cream topping)

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F

Make the caramel cream: In a heavy-bottomed medium-sized saucepan combine the sugar, cream of tartar and 1/4 cup water. Cover and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. After 1 minute of rapid boiling uncover the pan. Cook until the sugar caramelizes and turns a light golden brown, approximately 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat (the sugar will continue to cook). When the caramel is a deep golden brown, stand back and carefully add the cream. The caramel will erupt with bubbles and steam. Place the pan back on the stove over medium heat and whisk until the caramel is completely dissolved and smooth. Add the milk and continue cooking for one minute. Set the caramel cream aside.

Temper the caramel cream, the eggs, and the chocolate: Meanwhile, melt the chocolate in the bowl of a bain-marie, stirring occasionaly with a rubber spatula. Once the chocolate is melted, remove from heat. In a metal bowl, vigorously whisk the egg yolks and salt until they lighten in color a bit, 1 minute. Slowly, 1 cup at a time, add the caramel cream to the egg yolks, whisking constantly. Then slowly whisk the caramel and egg mixture, one ladle at a time, into the bowl with the melted chocolate. After each addition of the caramel and egg mixture, the chocolate should appear shiny and hold the lines of a whisk. After adding about half of the caramel cream, the chocolate custard will become thinner, like hot chocolate. You can bake the chocolate and caramel custard immediately or chill it over an ice bath and refrigerate it for up to 2 days.

Prepare the ramekins for baking: Place the ramekins in a baking dish lined with a thin kitchen towel to prevent the ramekins from sliding around. Put the custard into a container with a spout for pouring and place a paper towel over the surface of the custard, to blot out the air bubbles. Fill the ramekins with custard 4/5 of the way up the inside of the mold, add water to the baking dish to reach 2/3 of the way up the outside of the ramekins. Quickly wave a flame directly over the top of the custard in each of the ramekins to reduce the air bubbles. Cover the baking dish with a cookie tray or aluminum foil (punch a few air holes to prevent steaming and overcooking).

Bake the custards: Gently place in the oven and bake until the custards are set and have a uniform jiggle, 40 to 45 minutes (if custards are chilled, bake for 60-70 minutes instead). Allow to cool uncovered. Remove from water bath, cover and chill in the refrigerator for at least 12 hours.

Storage: The custards should be served in the ramekins slighlty chilled. Remove from refrigerator 1 hour before serving. The custards will keep, refrigerated, for 5 days.

Presentation: When you are ready to serve the custard, allow the ramekins to sit out so the custard is just barely chilled. Whip 1/4 cup heavy cream and the vanilla bean paste with a whisk until you have soft peaks. Pipe or place a dollop of the cream onto the top of each custard and garnish with cacao nibs, crushed toffee, or edible flowers (optional). Serve in ramekins.