I know what you’re thinking. You probably read the title of this post and shook your head. Maybe you scrolled through the pictures disapprovingly. “My land,” you thought, “this woman is obsessed with custard.” And you know what? You’re absolutely right. It’s shameful. I am. But this week I have an excuse. This week I’m passing the buck. This week I’m blaming three other people. Custard haters, please send your complaints to John Cheever, my husband Gus, and John McPhee.
This is the passage that started this week’s custard train a-chugging:
“He was a cheerful heavy man with a round face that looked exactly like a pudding. Everyone was glad to see him, as one is glad to see, at the end of a meal, the appearance of a bland, fragrant, and nourishing dish made of fresh eggs, nutmeg, and country cream.”
Sometime in the relatively recent past, Gus was reading The Stories of John Cheever, and for some reason that passage stuck with him. He mentioned it to me more than once. In fact way more than once. As if all he had ever wanted was a bland, fragrant, and nourishing dish of that custard and I was the only person who could make that dream come true.
But I didn’t want to. Too easy, I told him. Not interested, I said, nope. Until this week. This week just happens to be Gus’ birthday, and he took the opportunity to press the issue. He never asks for anything. He refuses gifts. Some years we aren’t allowed to even mention it. He usually forbids me from telling anyone. This year, for the first time in all the years I’ve known him, Gus made a birthday request. Just custard. As he put it: Gustard.
Ok, that’s funny. Maybe, I thought, I could do something with gustard. But I was dragging my feet, reluctant to make the dish John Cheever likened to a pleasingly chubby face. Though I do love a chubby face.
Then just last night, I read this:
“Someone asks for sour cream, and, as it happens, there is none in the house. Otto somehow feels he should have it, and so, for a single customer, he takes time to pour fresh thick cream into a bowl and whip it with a whisk, adding salt and vinegar. As the mixture stiffens, it takes on with remarkable exactness the texture of sour cream. He cuts up a scallion, mixes it in, and serves this patrician substitute to the unsuspecting stranger.” Ay. John McPhee. I love you. I wish I could describe a scene so simply but with such care. This comes from an essay called “Brigade de Cuisine” in his wonderful book Giving Good Weight. I know he’s not talking about custard, but the words “fresh thick cream” smooshed me. Mmm. Fresh thick cream. Country cream. Fresh eggs. Nutmeg. Fragrant. Nourishing. Bland but patrician.
Ok. I’m on board. But here’s the thing. You can’t put birthday candles in a custard. So I made a Boston Cream Pie. Gluten free. The perfect vessel for gustard. Happy birthday, everyone everywhere. And happy Fourth.
Gluten Free Boston Cream Pie
The custard recipe makes enough to fill the cake and a bit extra. I doubt you'll have trouble getting rid of it. I recommend a big scoop on top of some fresh peaches.
This custard sets up a little on the loose side. I prefer it that way. For a stiffer custard, add another tablespoon of cornstarch.
For the gustard:
6 large fresh egg yolks
2/3 cup sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon coarse salt
2 cup fresh whole milk
1 cup fresh heavy cream
1/2-3/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces
For the cake:
2 cups almond flour (I like Honeyville)
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
2/3 cup sugar
4 large eggs, separated
For the glaze:
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon coconut oil (or your favorite neutral oil)
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
1. Prepare the gustard: In a medium bowl, whisk together egg yolks, sugar, cornstarch, and salt. In a medium saucepan, bring milk and cream to a simmer over medium. Carefully ladle a little bit of the hot milk mixture into the yolk mixture and whisk to combine. Repeat this process a few times until most of the milk mixture has been incorporated. Return the yolk mixture to the saucepan.
2. Heat the custard over medium heat, stirring constantly until the mixture begins to thicken, about 4 minutes. Bring to a very low boil and cook another 1 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove the saucepan from the heat and strain the custard into a clean bowl. Whisk in the butter, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate until cold.
3. Prepare the cake: Preheat oven to 350°. Butter an 8-inch-by-2-inch round cake pan, line with parchment, and butter parchment. In a medium bowl, whisk together almond flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and salt. Using an electric mixer, in another medium bowl, beat butter and sugar until fluffy and well combined, about 5 minutes. Add egg yolks and beat to combine. Add almond flour mixture to butter mixture and beat to combine.
4 In a clean bowl, with clean beaters, beat egg whites to soft peaks, about 3 minutes. Mix a scoop of the egg whites into the almond flour mixture to loosen it. Then gently fold the remaining egg whites into almond flour mixture. Transfer batter to baking pan and smooth top. Bake until cake is golden brown and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with moist crumbs attached, about 40 to 45 minutes. Let cake cool in pan on a wire rack 10 minutes. Carefully flip cake onto a rack to cool completely.
4. Prepare glaze: Set chocolate and coconut oil in a medium bowl. In a small saucepan, heat cream until just about the boil. Pour hot cream over chopped chocolate and let it stand for 2 minutes. Whisk until smooth. Let it cool to room temperature,
5. To assemble, carefully cut the cake in half horizontally. Transfer one half to a serving plate. Spread the cut side with about 1 1/2 cups of chilled custard. Top with remaining cake half. Spread chocolate over the top. Chill for about an hour before slicing.