This is a choose-your-own-ending dessert. Made with the same base using the same cooking method, crème brûlée and crème caramel are like funhouse-mirror images of one another. Both are rich, delicate, vanilla-scented custards, but the former is topped with a hard, crackly caramel lid, while the latter is coated in a liquid caramel sauce that forms during baking (the caramel actually starts on the bottom, but becomes the top when inverted, like a flan). Would you rather cook the sugar on the stove to a deep amber color at the beginning and pour into ramekins for crème caramel, or use a torch to caramelize it at the very end for crème brûlée? The answer comes down to preference and comfort (and, possibly, your desire to own a torch).
If bread pudding is mostly bread, it makes sense that the better your bread, the better the pudding. I usually make my bread pudding with challah, the way Luther liked it best. For this book, I decided to mix things up a little. This recipe uses raisin-cinnamon bread for that hint of spice I love. The big secret, as with all bread pudding, is to use stale bread; otherwise, it will disintegrate in the custard.
This recipe is old-fashioned in the sense that it doesn't involve any canned milk, powders, or artificial flavorings. It results in a flan that is not too eggy thanks to the use half-and-half instead of milk to help thicken it.
A hot-milk sponge cake made a good base in our Boston Cream Pie recipe because it didn’t require any finicky folding or separating of eggs. Baking the batter in two pans eliminated the need to slice a single cake horizontally before adding the filling. We used butter to firm up our pastry cream, and we added corn syrup to heavy cream and melted chocolate for a smooth glaze that clung to the top of our Boston Cream Pie and dripped artistically down its sides.