Marmalade and Whisky Bread Pudding

RENÉE KOHLMAN

The early months of the shiny new year can be a bit bleak, especially as the harshness of a never-ending winter sets in, along with the reality of the bank balance once the credit card bill hits. It’s easy to see why so many of us want to hide under the duvet and do nothing but eat toast and rewatch the Sopranos.

In other words, comfort, in whatever way it takes shape for you, is key right now. For me, I find comfort in warm, roasty toasty things, my cats, and clever companions. And, I find comfort in the small, cozy confines of my kitchen. This is where a certain amount of magic happens throughout the year, but particularly in January and February when the budget is tight and I lean on my pantry and freezer a lot more. This is when I like to make something delicious out of almost nothing, which is where bread pudding comes in.

One of my goals this year is to be more intentional about food waste and finding ways to keep it out of the garbage. Keeping tabs on what’s in the fridge and what needs to be consumed before it goes bad is key, but also finding ways to use the last bits and bobs of things. For instance, I never use citrus just for the juice. Limes, lemons, and oranges are zested first and then squeezed. I freeze the zest for later use, in labeled freezer bags. Parmesan rinds are also little gems. I add them to stocks and broths, and often into soups just like that. They impart terrific umami to the liquid, something they could never do if they were in the garbage! And then there is bread, glorious bread. The end pieces are frozen and saved for breadcrumbs, and, on the occasion that a loaf goes stale before I can finish it, it gets turned into bread pudding.

Bread pudding insists that the aforementioned bread be stale. It needs to be dry and crusty so it can soak up the eggy custard. If you don’t find bags of stale brioche, sourdough, or croissants in the deep dark depths of your freezer, then check out the supermarket shelves for reduced pricing on their day-olds. Stale bread and custard sounds a bit unappealing, I’ll give you that, but it’s what you add to this to make it amazing. Again, I looked in my refrigerator and found a half empty jar of orange marmalade. She’s going in. As is a wee bit of brown sugar, the last of the vanilla bean paste, and the dregs of the whisky bottle, leftover from a night of celebrating, as one does when company drops in in December.

Technically, this recipe is a bread AND butter pudding, as melted butter is combined with the cubes of stale bread before it gets smothered in custard, but that’s just a technicality. And, if you don’t want to splurge on whipping cream, then coffee cream or half and half will do. Don’t like marmalade? Then any sort of jam will do nicely. Again, look into your fridge and see what needs to be used up. Apricot jam, apple jelly, plum preserves would all be wonderful. No jam? Then add some maple syrup and finely diced apple instead.

The whole shebang gets tossed together, and while it doesn’t look like much, once it’s baked up golden and puffy, the edges get wonderfully crispy and the centre is soft and creamy. Dusted with icing sugar, it’s a dessert worthy of family and friends, or even just you and your duvet, James Gandolfiini and crew, too.

Marmalade and Whisky Bread Pudding

Serves 6

10 (about 450 g) slices day-old crusty white bread or brioche, cubed ¼ cup salted butter, melted 3 large eggs

1¼ cup (310 mL) whole milk

1 cup (250 mL) whipping cream

¼ cup light brown sugar, packed 1/3 cup (80 mL) Seville orange marmalade, plus more for dotting 1½ Tbs (22 mL) whisky

1 tsp (5 mL) pure vanilla bean paste or extract

Icing sugar, for serving

1. Place the cubed bread in a large bowl. Drizzle with the melted butter and toss to coat.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, cream, sugar, marmalade, whisky, and vanilla. Whisk well to combine.

3. Pour the custard over the bread cubes and toss well. Let the mixture rest for 30 minutes.

4. Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Lightly grease a baking dish. Pour the bread mixture into the baking dish, being sure to scrape all of the liquid out. Dot the top with a bit (about 1 Tbs or so) of marmalade.

5. Bake for 45-60 minutes, until the bread pudding is puffed and golden brown.

6. Serve warm or at room temperature, dusted with icing sugar. Refrigerate any leftovers for up to 2 days.

Renée Kohlman is a busy food writer and recipe developer living in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Her second cookbook, “Vegetables: A Love Story” has just been published.