Bread-and-Buttery IMBB

Yesterday was rainy and gray, a day for staying in and brightening up the kitchen with music and smells and tastes. The gloomy weather lent itself perfectly to baking up something for the One Off Meme event, "What's for Pud?", an invitation to make something sweet from an English recipe. Coincidentally, I have recently returned from a semester-break traveling spree, which included a stint in Newcastle, England. We had a rollicking time-- spent St. Patrick's at a blues club, climbed up the lookout of a castle-- but let's just say I was lucky to have a vegetarian host who understood the neccessity of cooking in rather than eating soggy fries on the street corners. Sadly, however, that meant we did very little authentically English eating. Now was my chance.

Well, I dug through the fridge (more like glanced into-- it's a little barren, as I'm living alone for now) and found several eggs that were meant for an abandoned project. Okay. Eggs. A few baked custard recipes popped up on Google (the one and only research tool of my generation), but I felt like something was missing... I wanted a recipe I had never made and never would have noticed otherwise.

Aaah. Bread and Butter Pudding? Something I could work with.

Now yesterday was a (yet another) day when, in Germany, all the stores are closed without warning. Good thing for Spätkauf! This overpriced but often- (rather than always-) open hole in the wall sold me a loaf of stale sliced "butter loaf", or sandwich bread, for a mere €-.80. Sweet. But what to do for milk? I only had Soja-Reis-Drink, and... a discovery! Condensed milk! Improvisation time: I used up the little package and added water at about a 1.5:0.5cup ratio. Swirl in two eggs.

I reviewed half a dozen different recipes, and decided to take the best from what I found. Five buttered slices of bread, some raisins (I couldn't bring myself to use the traditional sultanas), 1/4 cup of sugar and a pinch of nutmeg later, the layered concoction was soaked through and ready to bake for around 30 (40?) min at a preheated 350.

Ta-daa! Golden, steamy, crisping up and bubbling along the edges...

And I poked it.
I know the eggs and milk and crown of crust reminiscent of a water droplet on waxed paper mean soufflé, and I stabbed the poor pudding right in its creamy innards. I could almost hear the sad stream of air escaping as it settled into the recess of the baking dish. Guess I learned for good.

It was pleasant to eat once a little firmer than this initial piece (cut from excitement)-- reminiscent of a (fallen) soufflé or Frenchly scrambled eggs. I would almost use more sugar, or brown sugar perhaps, next time, as the taste was very, very mild (although higher quality bread might have helped out in that department as well) (can I even use "very" when describing "mild?"). All in all a success, of course keeping in mind that I had no idea what I was was shooting for.

And this morning it served me very well for breakfast, just a smile of smooth raisin-studded custard. Mmm... quite a nice beginning to a quiet holiday weekend.