Reasons for Dessert

I rarely need one, but if I do, I can think one up. A good reason for dessert right now is that it's January 2013 and the first week of the year is already over—so fast and unrelenting. Maybe more justifiably, dessert makes dinner taste better. This might be a fact of how our bodies work, that a sweet thing following some savory things affects our palates and our digestion.

A rule of hosting a dinner party is that you should invest yourself in the dessert. If you pull it off, your guests will remember the entire meal as a success, regardless of anything else they ate. I'm not sure how the reverse would apply—will a bad dessert make a good main dish shine?—but I do know that a disappointing dessert leaves me with an overall disappointed feeling.

Lesley came over for dinner tonight to kick off one of my resolutions for this year, which is that I learn how to cook fish. I've screwed up fish at least half the times I've made it. This is mostly because I don't have any muscle memory for it. Several years ago I tried making fish en papillote. The first time it came out perfectly and it was a marvelous, validating thing to take credit for. The second time, on a New Year's Eve or maybe Halloween, the fish was overcooked and the accompanying vegetables were still raw. I haven't made fish en papillote since then. I've never cooked scallops well, and I attribute the one time I made a perfect salt-baked dourade to beginner's luck.

So tonight I made pan-fried filets. I went to a fishmonger in the morning and bought two filets of basa. I'd never heard of this fish before, and after the fishmonger answered my questions about what it tastes like and how to cook it—it's basically catfish—and after I paid for it and was tucking my purchase into my backpack, I asked where it came from. Vietnam.

I cooked it using this method, substituting rice flour for the wondra. The thin filets spurt and hissed as I laid them into the oil and immediately became opaque around the edges. I knew I was compromising our meal by eagerly checking the progress of the browning—the rule of searing is do not disturb, since any nudging or tucking or re-organizing will prevent browning from ever happening—but with such thin filets I wasn't sure how long it'd take. It turns out, not very long. About 3 minutes per side, with no need to finish cooking them in the oven.

They were good. They were crisp even if not golden; they flaked gently and were not dry. I used up other lingering vegetables to round out the meal: a big handful of expensive, painstakingly peeled, roasted sunchokes and a red cabbage, sweet potato, and feta bake.

And now I return to dessert, also made from items lingering in the fridge and freezer. Last summer I started taking home the unsold croissants and pain au chocolates from the place where I work. I put  them into the freezer, envisioning a decadent bread pudding somewhere in the future. Today I made that bread pudding. As we finished our wine and allowed the meal to digest, we smelled caramel and brandy and a high-pitched note of scorched chocolate, blistering on the pan's edge, coming from the oven—an enticing, harmonious trio of aromas, I promise—and for a little while we, or I, forgot about fish, resolutions, and January.

Caramel Croissant Bread Pudding

Modified slightly from this Nigella recipe

2 day-old croissants
2 day-old pain au chocolat
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons water
1/3 cup heavy cream
2/3 cup milk (or nondairy milk—I used almond milk)
2 tablespoons brandy
2 large eggs, beaten
1/4 teaspoon flaky salt

Lightly butter an 8x8 or 9x9 baking pan. Tear up the croissants and pain au chocolat into rough 1- to 2-inch pieces—you should have about 6 cups—and arrange them in a semi-even layer them in the pan.

Combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan over medium heat and cook, swirling the pan frequently, until the sugar dissolves. Watch carefully. The liquid will start to bubble dramatically. If you use organic sugar, it’ll begin as a pale caramel color; if you use white sugar, it’ll begin clear. In either case cook without stirring, only swirling occasionally, until it turns an amber shade. This will take about 5 minutes. Remove from the heat.

Carefully pour in the cream, milk, and brandy, standing back a bit as the mixture bubbles up. The sugars will seize up. Return the pan to the heat, turn it down to low, and cook, stirring periodically, until the sugar crystals dissolve.

Beat the eggs in a mixing bowl. Pour in the hot caramel sauce while whisking constantly, then pour this mixture over the bread. Use a spatuala to gently stir and fold so that all the bread is moistened. Sprinkle the top with the salt. Let stand for at least 20 minutes and up to a few hours in the refrigerator.

Preheat the oven to 350. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until the top is crisp and a tester inserted into the center comes out clean. Serve warm.