Pudding

When­ we ­decided­ to start serving brunch, we were determined to stick with the original concept of the restaurant, "tea turned on its ear," so we racked our brains to come up with a way to do french toast that was unique, fun, and, most important, tasty! We all tossed a bunch of ideas out there, and one of them was french toast bread pudding. All heads tilted curiously at this idea, so of course we tried it. The idea was for it to be like a true bread pudding—tea-infused, of course—but when the first batch came out, our chef said, "I don't think this one is right—the top is crisp and chewy, but the bottom may be mushy." We tried it, and lo and behold, there it was, the brunch item that would make eyes widen and taste buds explode: a layer of crisp and chewy french toast on top and a wonderfully gooey, creamy bread pudding infused with apricot brandy tea underneath. Note that you will need eight 2-inch-deep oven-safe glass bowls (8-ounce ramekins or crème brûlée dishes work well).

In these delicate and unassuming little puddings, the bread rises to the top, leaving a layer of silky custard below. Surround the puddings with a moat of the lively orange sauce.

Both corn kernels and corn cobs are used to flavor the cream mixture that forms the base of this surprising dessert. The sweetness of the corn is great with the caramely sauce.

Making the panna cotta in a cake pan gives this classic dessert a new look. For best results, use an organic plain yogurt (which usually has a softer texture than nonorganic).

Panna cotta is an Italian custard dessert. It's similar to pudding but is thickened with gelatin instead of egg yolks. This version is a velvety almond custard topped with fresh cherries and a candied almond garnish.

This recipe is a lifer. I’ve been making it for more than 20 years, and every time I try to file it away, someone inevitably comes along asking for it. I brought it to my first staff get-together when I was working at Chez Panisse and, from then on, for all of the parties that followed, when I would even think of making something different, my friends and coworkers would cry out for this caramelized chocolate bread pudding. A few years later, the bread pudding gained an East Coast fan club, too. I was working at Alloro, a tiny restaurant in Boston’s Italian district. Back then, the Mafia owned all the local cafés and had a monopoly on the dessert-and-coffee crowd. Whereas the other (probably wiser) restaurants on the street obeyed the unspoken law of not selling dessert, at Alloro we broke the rule and secretly served this bread pudding to our in-the-know customers. We worked hard to keep the highly requested dessert under cover, and it seems we succeeded: both the recipe and I are still around. A few things make this bread pudding better than most. I love custards and am often disappointed by bread puddings with too much bread and not enough pudding. So be careful to use just a single layer of brioche, which creates a crispy crust but won’t absorb all the rich, silky custard underneath. Once you break through the caramelized, toasty top layer and dig down through the luscious custard, a treasure of melted chocolate awaits you at the bottom.

Bread pudding was originally created as a way to use up stale bread. Today, the dessert is a favorite in the U.K. and the U.S. Here, rich brioche is combined with a vanilla custard and pieces of tangy ginger-infused rhubarb.

I have never been a huge fan of bread pudding, but for some reason this bread pudding takes the cake, no pun intended. It combines just the right elements of sweet, tart, creamy, and crispy. Everyone who tries it becomes a fan.

There are many variations on the Middle Eastern milk pudding known as muhallebi, but this one, delicately flavored with cardamom, is especially silky, thanks to arrowroot. It tastes best when served well chilled.

Cooking the bread pudding in a loaf pan gives it a modern, bakery-style look. For a more decadent dessert, serve with vanilla ice cream.

Cinnamon and banana liqueur give this version of the iconic dessert lots of bold flavor.

A silky-smooth panna cotta with the tang of buttermilk, this dessert is wonderfully easy to pull off. Any leftover sauce would be great spooned over ice cream.

Fans of milky coffee will go crazy for these softly set little coffee puddings adorned with whipped cream. Use decaffeinated instant coffee granules if you will be serving them to children or caffeine-wary adults.

In this golden casserole (which you'll find on many Pennsylvania Dutch tables), a buttermilk custard rises to the top while the chewy, toasty corn sinks to the bottom, resulting in a two-layered pudding. The packaged sweet corn—frequently called by its most common brand name, Cope's corn—is slowly dried so that its natural sugars caramelize, a centuries-old Native American preservation method. Recipes usually call for grinding the corn, but the whole kernels impart a coarser texture that we love.

Noodle kugels, or baked puddings, abound in Ashkenazic Jewish cookery, and this particular version makes an outstanding dessert or brunch dish. You'll find that the mild sweetness of coarsely grated Gala apples perks up the hearty richness.

This orange jelly with orange slices can also be made with the juice of freshly squeezed blood oranges or clementines. Many supermarkets and stores now sell these juices freshly squeezed, which makes it an easy pudding to prepare. It is set with cornstarch and is not as firm as a jelly set with gelatine.

This pudding has more protein than a basic rice pudding. Because of the whole milk and eggs, it is suitable for children only over one year old.

The slight spiciness of Gala apples and the decadence of homemade caramel sauce pair nicely with a creamy and not too- sweet vanilla rice pudding. Fuji apples would be another good choice for this dessert.

Yes, buttermilk is good for tender griddlecakes and baked goods, but as these delicate individual puddings show, its tangy flavor is not to be taken for granted. The sauce that tops the puddings begins with a red-wine syrup mulled with citrus and a bay leaf and then puréed with strawberries. A final scattering of mixed berries gives a down-home touch to something that is, at heart, wonderfully curious and complex.