In our palms. And, brown sugar pudding with peanut butter caramel.
On Monday we had a meal that was and wasn’t for our Thanksgiving exactly. It was a moment of registered gratitude. Yet, sticking to only our household through the crash of this second wave, it was kind of thanksgiving without the capital T.
Fingers crossed everyone can be here for Diwali.
I made the smallest turkey in memory. Spatchcocked, with herby/garlicy/dried chile compound butter under the skin and set upon a tumble of carrots, oranges, onions, celery, heads of garlic sliced through their broadest points, along with twiggy rosemary and thyme from the garden, and cat’s tongue-leaves of sage. A friend sent me a video of her turkey. I shared photos of mine, since I followed her lead with all that prep. Inspired by another, there was a salad of kale and Brussels sprouts, seeds, and translucent slices of apples. I went off-book and piled it onto za’tar roasted crescents of delicata squash. The beets had vinaigrette thickened with garlic confit, sinus-tingling mustard, and sticky marmalade. The potatoes came as hasselback potato gratin, with an added band of October-appropriate garnet yams.
The whole day was like that, feeling like a holiday but only close to it. It landed beside, not straight on festive. We didn't have the heart to recreate tradition with empty seats at the table. Still, there was a need to remember the feeling of certain touchstones. To hold their familiar weight in our palms like river rocks.
We shared a video of our table, and in return got smiles back from our screens.
I made a crumble for dessert, not my usual pie or pumpkin something-something. The crumble was right. Autumnal, honestly my husband’s preference, and what’s more, there is comfort in a spoonable dessert*. The fruit was scented with cinnamon and nutmeg, velvety plush and soft, while the streusel granted antithetical, necessary, texture when it met the tooth.
When I was cooking, I think I was getting the stuffing together, there was a flash of white at the edge of my vision. The purest white, I thought maybe a cat darting across the yard—long and lean and moving fast. It wasn’t. It was a squirrel. A Disney fairytale squirrel, snowy and without mark, bounding through the leaves just over there. I turned away to grab my phone for a picture. When I looked back it was unsurprisingly gone. I went outside and found no sign of it. I’ve never seen a white squirrel in our yard before. It felt somehow important.
YOU MIGHT WANT TO MAKE THIS
*The Magnolia Bakery Banana pudding—the secret recipe for which was made no-longer-secret recently and has been open on a tab on my computer ever since (Jell-O pudding! Condensed milk!)—is made in a large dish, left to soften, and then spooned out. If I’m honest, that is my preferred service of desserts like this. Present me a tiramisu in a baking dish rather than individual portions, please and thank you. I like how it melds into a oneness of self rather than discernibly divided. A scoop resembles swirled ice cream, which is to say, it’s beautiful.
I made pb + banana pudding cups here, in denial of that inclination, for the intent of showing those layers and providing a visual for the separate recipes. Please know that any other day, I’m pulling out my trifle dish.
BROWN SUGAR VANILLA PUDDING (Will satisfy for 4 if eaten without garnish, or 8 to 10 when made into pb+banana puddings. That said, you’ll best judge your level of need.)
In a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan heat 2 cups milk and/or cream in combination (Half-and half is fine, or a mix of table cream and milk, or heavy cream and milk. I don’t know what is in your fridge, but I will tell you all will work, with varying richness and influence on set as you’d expect.) Scrape in the seeds of half a vanilla bean, then pop in the pod as well. Heat until steaming over medium heat.
While that is happening, whisk 1/4 cup brown sugar into 1 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch in a large bowl, along with a good pinch medium grain kosher salt. Slide in 2 egg yolks, and whisk until pale. The mixture will first seize and you’ll think I biffed the recipe. Persist, and with the effort the eggs will relax from your whisk turn suddenly marshmallowy.
Pull the pod from the steaming milk, then introduce the latter to those dreamy eggs in a slow, steady stream, whipping all the while. Pour the mixture back into the saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, still stirring. Cook for 2 minutes at a bubble, then scrape into a wide, heatproof bowl. Stir in 1 tablespoon salted butter. If you feel so inclined, set over an ice bath to speed chilling. If using as I did, in stratum with sliced bananas, honey roasted nuts, and peanut butter caramel (below), then layer at this stage before covering with plastic wrap and moving to the fridge to set up. If eating plain, decant to serving dishes, cover and chill, at least 2 hours.
PEANUT BUTTER CARAMEL (Makes a scant 1/2 cup or enough to get through the night)
Measure 50 g | 1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar, 1 tablespoon salted butter, 1 tablespoon honey, and a pinch medium-grained kosher salt in a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan set over medium heat, stirring until melted. Pour in 2 1/2 tablespoons heavy cream and sprinkle in 1/8 teaspoon finely-ground espresso beans (trust me). Bring to a boil, whisking to smooth. Lower the flame and leave to bubble for 1 minute more. Pull from the heat, and stir in 1 heaped tablespoon smooth peanut butter and seeds scraped from 1/2 a vanilla bean or 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract. Leave to cool, giving a stir now and again. Cover and refrigerate if it will be a while before using. Rewarm only to a gently-pourable flow for the banana puddings, or hotter if intended to drape a scoop of ice cream.
A note. To make into pb + banana puddings, it’s a good idea to double the caramel. Whip 2 cups heavy cream to soft peaks and sweetens as you’d like. Fold three-quarters of the whipped cream into the pudding to lighten. Layer both pudding and caramel with Nilla wafers or gingersnaps or graham crackers, however you are moved. Add a cobblestone of bananas. Scrunch up some honey roasted nuts. Finish with more whipped cream, more nuts, maybe some seeds … really, I’m not the boss of you. Chill at least 4 hours before grabbing spoons.
Other recipes: Café de Olla Chocoflan from Esteban Castillo, author of Chicano Eats.
THINGS I WOULD TEXT IF I HAD YOUR NUMBER
RCMP criticized for inaction after mob violently attacks Mi’kmaq lobster facilities. For background: an explainer on Indigenous fishing rights.
Conversations with my Father, an essay by Shubam Das, as part of the Museum of Material memory—a digital project cataloguing familial artifacts from across the Indian subcontinent.
Wesley Morris, on external and internal identity; My Moustache, my Self.
The introduction to Tobe Nwigwe’s Pandemic Experience.
A collection of spices to honour Chef Floyd Cardoz’s indelible talent and legacy legacy. And locally (for me), Zing — a Toronto-based line of pantry staples. I’m particularly excited about the Hakka-ish chili crisp, with its nod to Indo-Chinese flavours.
Watch the Minari trailer.