True to this column’s name and to my life’s work as a culinary nutritionist, the recipes I serve up here each week are especially nutrient-rich and healthful, or at least a better-for-you version of what you might be craving. But nourishment is more than a collection of vitamins and minerals. Equally important, I believe, is the emotional well-being food provides, and that’s what compelled me to create this recipe. These delightful custard cups check the boxes on the numerical and whole-food criteria of a more healthful dessert, but they also transport me to my childhood, to the comfort of my grandmother’s kitchen, where I could reliably find them in little glass cups in her refrigerator whenever I searched for a treat.
They are a simple pleasure, made with basic ingredients. (There is something soothing about that in and of itself.) To make them, you gradually whisk heated milk into a bowl of beaten eggs flavored with vanilla and honey. (My grandmother used white sugar, but I prefer to go the more healthful, unrefined route. Besides, because honey browns faster than sugar, it ultimately gives the custards a gloriously golden top.) The mixture is poured into ramekins, which are then nestled into a towel-lined baking dish, so the ramekins don’t move around. The baking dish is then filled with hot water and then placed in the oven until the custard is just set. The water bath (bain-marie), which ensures even, gentle cooking, is easy, so don’t let it intimidate you if you haven’t tried it before.
The creamy custard cups are delicious plain, and they can be served shortly after cooking while still a bit warm or chilled. Though stellar on their own, they are even better topped with the fragrant compote here. It’s a simple pleasure, too: Just blueberries, fresh or frozen, simmered with a bit of honey and a pinch of cardamom until bursting. The cardamom brings an incomparable heady, fruity fragrance to the compote, but if you don’t have it, ground cinnamon will work, too.
The result is a perfectly portioned, homespun dessert that, I hope, brings you at least some of the nostalgic comfort it gives me.
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