Confession: Crème brûlée is better than cake. And not just because it’s easier.
The recipe
Yield: 4 servings
Time: 45 minutes, plus 3 hours cooling time
Ingredients
5 egg yolks
½ c (100 g) sugar, plus extra for caramelizing
2 c (480 g) heavy cream
⅛ tsp salt
5 tbsp (70 g) St. Germain liqueur
Zest of 1 lime
1 tbsp (14 g) fresh lime juice
Instructions
1. Preheat your oven to 325°F. Boil a pot of water. Place four ramekins in a large pan with rimmed sides.
2. In a bowl with a pour spout, whisk together the egg yolks and sugar until they are light yellow in color and set aside.
3. Combine the heavy cream and salt in a small pot and cook over low heat until the cream just barely simmers.
4. Stirring constantly, add the cream mixture to the eggs a large spoonful at a time until ⅔ of the mixture has been added. Pour the rest in all at once and stir well to combine.
5. Stir in the St. Germain liqueur, lime zest, and lime juice.
6. Pour the mixture into 4 ramekins.
7. Pour boiling water in the pan until it reaches halfway up the sides of the ramekins.
8. Bake the crème brûlées on the middle rack of the oven for about 30 minutes, until the centers are wobbly when jiggled but no longer look liquid, and the internal temperature reaches 170°F–175°F. (Take a look at the video below to see what the wobble should look like.)
9. Remove the tray from the oven, then carefully remove the crème brûlées from the water bath using a turner (pancake flipper) or tongs. Set them on a cooling rack or a counter to cool to room temperature, then move them to fridge to chill for a few hours.
10. Once they are chilled and immediately before serving, spread a layer of sugar over the top of each one. Using a blowtorch, heat the sugar until it browns and smokes a tiny bit. Let stand for a minute to firm up, then eat.
Notes and tips
Yes, this recipe is totally based on the St. Germain spritz cocktail I love so much. If you need some way to use up that bottle of liqueur, here’s the cocktail recipe: Combine 2 oz white wine, 2 oz club soda, and 1.5 oz St Germain in a glass over ice. Squeeze in a splash of fresh lime juice, stir until cold, and serve.
I like to use wide, shallow ramekins for crème brûlée, just like you’d see at a restaurant. (Yes, I own them just for this. No, I don’t know where I got them—they were a gift from my family who became obsessed when I started baking crème brûlée.) Shallow dishes give the most surface area for the crunchy sugar top, but smaller, deeper ones, like these work well. Just double-check they can be broiled if you’re not using a blowtorch—not all ramekins are rated for the broiler.
The cream barely simmering means it should be nice and steamy and have little bubbles coming up at the sides. The temperature is not so important; you just want it hot but below a boil.
Use a spoon to stir the egg mixture when adding the cream to it instead of a whisk. If you whisk it, there will be bubbles on the top of your custards that will form a brown skin when they cook.
The step where you add the warm cream to the egg yolks is called tempering. You want to do this slowly so that the yolks gradually warm up to temperature and don’t turn into scrambled egg.
The water bath is an important step. It gently cooks the crème brûlées by keeping the temperature around them lower, ensuring a creamy texture.
It can be tricky to judge just by the wobble if a crème brûlée is done baking, so I prefer using temperature. It’s more accurate.
If you’re eating the crème brûlées within a day of baking them, leave them uncovered in the fridge. If you aren’t eating them soon, cover them with plastic wrap to keep from drying out.
If you don’t want to use a blowtorch or don’t have one, here are broiling instructions (I’ve never tried this method myself, so I can’t vouch for it). Set the crème brûlées a few inches below the broiler and broil for 2-5 minutes, until they are brown and caramelized on top, watching carefully to keep them from burning.
This is the torch I use for brûléeing.
(This is how wobbly the crème brûlées should be fresh out of the oven. Jiggly, but not liquid.)
The story
Crème brûlée may be the perfect dessert. (Don’t tell cake I said that.) Cake, you are still my very favorite. But you’re work, and a layer cake requires skill and practice. Crème brûlée, on the other hand, is easy. You heat some cream, then add it slowly into egg yolks, then pour the mixture into ramekins in a water bath and bake it. After that, chill and then caramelize some sugar before enjoying.
There’s not a lot that can go wrong. Maybe you added the hot cream too fast and scrambled some egg. Just strain the mixture to get the lumps out and bake it anyway. Maybe you underbaked it. It might be runny, but it will taste delicious and you’ll still have that lovely crunchy top. Maybe you baked it too long—but probably not; that’s hard to do in a water bath.
You can make crème brûlée ahead of time. Days ahead of time. Do you have ten people coming over for Easter dinner and too much to do on the day to even think about dessert? Crème brûlée was my answer.
Your guests will be very impressed. “You made crème brûlée?” they will gasp as you place beautiful ramekins full of silky custard in front of them. “I did,” you’ll reply. “From scratch.” “I’ve only ever had it at restaurants,” they will say. “It must have been so much work!” And you will smile to yourself. You’re going to let them think that.
And then there’s the spectacle of it. Blowtorching the top is fun, both for you and any brave guests who want to try it themselves. There’s something about the blue flame turning sugar from crystals to liquid to amber brown and glassy that seems magical, but that might be because all my friends really like fire.
And once you start baking your own crème brûlée, you won’t be tempted to order one when out to eat again. Just vanilla, you’ll think, seeing it on the menu. You’ll turn your nose up and sniff. Not very inventive with their flavors. I make the best elderflower and lime one at home. And if you do break down and order it, you’ll take a bite and think, Something’s off. It’s too sweet. And it will dawn on you that the small amount of salt in your recipe makes all the difference, and that will be the last time you ever get crème brûlée at a restaurant.
The only thing that might take away from crème brûlée’s perfections? The five egg whites you now have sitting in your fridge, quickly expiring. That is a true downside, but in two weeks, for my next post, I have the answer for you: bake my pavlova recipe.
Spread the Snob
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They really do all love fire, the boys anyway