Como rayo de luz transparente

que ilumina mi oscuridad siempre

Like a ray of light, transparent

that illuminates my darkness, always

– Chichi Peralta, Sol de Verano

♥

Six months ago my grandpa’s soul lifted up towards the heavens, leaving our world behind. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of him. It could be in the mornings, as I sip my coffee. Or at night when I’m about to go to sleep. A sense of sadness washes over me at first because I miss him so much but then this overwhelming feeling of love that’s so hard to explain in words, takes over and I feel totally at peace, my heart swollen with the most immense love.

Crema volteada is another grandpa original. He made this often, whenever we needed something a little sweet for lonche, Peruvian for afternoon tea, or for dessert. It’s amazingly delicious for such a simple recipe– it only has 4 ingredients total. The end result is a silky smooth flan that is just barely sweet, enough to satiate desires.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rarXT71TdOI

Dancing at my wedding, 2004

Crema volteada

// Serves up 6-8 slices 

1 – 12 ounce can evaporated milk

4 large eggs

1 cup + 1/2 cup sugar, divided

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grab a roasting pan big enough to house the round pie dish that you’ll be using for the crema volteada. You’ll be using it for the water bath. Put the roasting pan on the middle rack of the oven.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the milk, eggs, 1/2 cup sugar, and vanilla extract. Set aside.

Pour the 1 cup of sugar into a small sauce pot and set over medium heat to make the caramel. Swirl around to melt until the sugar has dissolved and turned amber-copper and starts to smoke slightly. When it is totally thinned out, immediately (but carefully!) pour caramel into glass pie dish, swirling it around so that it covers the entire bottom. Give your egg mixture another light whisk and then pour this directly over the caramel in the pie dish.

Put this into the roasting pan and then pour boiling hot water around the dish until it reaches about halfway up the sides. Bake for about an hour or until the middle looks almost set, it should still jiggle ever so slightly. Let this cool on a rack for about 10 minutes and then put it in the fridge to cool for at least 2-3 hours. When it’s chilled completely, run a knife around the edges and unmold it by placing a dish larger than the pie dish over it to invert. The crema volteada should plop right out with the caramel (note: some of the caramel will still be stuck to the dish, that’s fine). Cut into pretty slices and enjoy!

Provecho!

Go to any Peruvian’s home and you will almost always be offered a glass of this: chicha morada, a chilled beverage made from purple corn and infused with pineapple and cinnamon. It’s a thirst-quenching drink, sweetened slightly with cane sugar and then brought to life with fresh lime juice. I’ve been drinking this since I was a tater tot.

The flavor is really like none other. I keep taking sips to really explain…but the first I notice (and love) is the wonderful floral and fruity aroma that whacks you in the nose when you tip the glass for a drink. It’s almost like you walked into a groovy cool place with lots of delicious and pretty things. And the taste: smooth and supple with subtle notes of berry and spice, and beautiful– like a song you never knew you loved.

I’m pretty sure I saw that on a wine bottle somewhere.

Speaking of notes + songs, I’m going to be supplementing my posts with music pertaining to mood and food since I think they both sort of go hand-in-hand. Plus, it’s something that’s always been in my blood. Where there’s Peruvians, there’s music and food. Seems like a natural fit here. Oh! And remind me sometime to show you a video of me dancing when I was 9. Good stuff.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this song playing at our family parties; it’s a classic. It reminds me of summer time, cold beer, and ceviche.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nhtn3HROvgA

Directions:

Toss the purple corn, cinnamon sticks, and pineapple rind into a large stock pot. Pour the water over the top, put a lid on and turn the heat to high. Let it come to a boil and then turn the heat down to medium, allowing the water to boil gently, with the lid on, for an hour. After an hour, take off the lid and let it continue to boil gently to reduce a bit for another 30 minutes. At this point, the liquid should be very dark and almost opaque– a gorgeous shade of wine. Take it off the heat and let it cool to room temperature, several hours.

When it’s cool, strain it in a colander. Throw away the purple corn, cinnamon sticks, and pineapple rinds. To the chicha, stir in the sugar and lime juice. Taste it for sweetness, adding more sugar and lime juice for your palate. I strain it again to get rid of any lime “pulp” but you don’t have to. Stash this in the fridge for many hours until very chilled. For best results, don’t add ice to this as it’ll mess with the flavor. Optional: before serving you can add pieces of fresh pineapple in each glass too.

// makes 1 big pitcher

Provecho!

This is one of my dad’s favorite meals: It’s called picante de camarones, or spicy shrimp, and it’s a traditional Peruvian seafood dish imbued with racy ají colorado, garlic, and onions. The sauce — a compilation of butter, white wine, heavy cream is what gives the shrimp their sexy luster and appeal.

Typically served over rice, picante de camarones can look strikingly similar to a Creole étouffée with it’s bold flavors and shellfish allegiance. This Peruvian iteration however, almost always comes with a side of boiled potatoes and sliced, hard boiled eggs. Because just when you think you have enough of a good thing, we give you more. Peruvians are gluttons for immoderation (but I think you already knew that).

I left the shells on to intensify the sauce as it cooked but if you’re opposed to peeling the skins while you eat and can’t harbor the thought of licking all that glorious shrimp juice dripping down your fingers at the table, then…I suppose you can disrobe them prior but that’s like really un-fun and I think I’d have to disown you for a minute.

At it’s best, this should be served and devoured as soon as the shrimp turn a bright vermilion and the sauce a luscious pond of spicy, creamy broth. Grab a mess of paper towels, drink a glass of crisp white. Get dirty dirty.

Directions:

Rinse the shrimp under cool running water and leave to drain.

Grab your butter out of the fridge and put 2 tablespoons of it into a large fry pan. Put the remaining 1 tablespoon into a small bowl and let it come to room temperature and soften. When you’re able to easily smash it with a fork, mix in 1 tablespoon of all-purpose flour until a loose, crumbly dough forms. You’ve made a beurre manié! Set this aside, you’ll use it to thicken and finish the sauce later.

Return to your fry pan with the butter in it and turn up the heat to medium-high. Once the butter has melted, toss in the slivered onions and let this soften and cook down for a bit, about 3-4 minutes. Add in the chopped garlic, ají colorado, and salt and pepper to taste. Give everything a stir and continue to cook until the garlic is fragrant and the ají colorado has coated the onion mixture, about 2-3 minutes, depending if your ají colorado is frozen or not.

Pour in the white wine and water and let this come to a bubble for a minute, to cook off the alcohol and reduce slightly. Tumble in the shrimp, give it a toss to coat, and then put a lid on it, reducing the heat to medium, and cooking until the shrimp have just turned a bright red, approx 5-6 minutes.

Dribble in the cream, give it a stir and let it warm through for a few seconds. Lastly, add the beurre manié, the butter-flour mixture you made earlier, to the sauce, using a small whisk to incorporate it in, weaving in and around the shrimp and onions, until the sauce has thickened slightly and is velvety smooth, about a couple minutes to enrich properly.

Sprinkle in some freshly chopped cilantro, give it another toss and serve at once over perfectly puffed white rice, boiled taters and hard boiled eggs.

// Serves 2 hungry lovers

This is the stuff of legends, my friends.

I use this in just about everything I cook, from traditional Peruvian dishes to many of my wacky throw-together meals. Why? Because it makes everything taste that much better. Think of chipotle peppers. You know how they can transform a ho-hum thing into an omg-that’s-delicious thing? That’s what this is.

In Peru, they use ají panca, a dried red chile pepper to make ají colorado. It can be a little difficult to find in the U.S. unless you have a very well-stocked Latin American market by you. Fortunately, by the blessings of gods, I can score it just down the road from me at the local mercado. If you just can’t find it no matter where you look, you can buy it online here.

Or, you can do what my parents have done for years, and that is use dried California or New Mexico chiles instead of ají panca.

The flavors are fairly similar across the board, with California being the mildest and having a fruity, raisin-like taste, New Mexico having an earthier, richer flavor with a bit more spice, and ají panca with a combination of both California + New Mexico flavors with added heat. Now that I can get my hands on ají panca regularly, it’s typically my first choice when making ají colorado but really, the flavor difference with the other chiles is minimal and it won’t affect the recipe.

Speaking of which, here are a couple ideas to get you started on your enriched life as an ají colorado aficionado –

// Do you like birds? Here’s a yummy recipe for a Peruvian-style roast chicken.

// How about sausage? I mix ají colorado with lentils + kielbasa for this killer stick-to-your-ribs comfort meal.

// Empanadas! Make these and your friends will love you forever.

// One of the first things I learned to make: Chupe de camarones, a creamy, flavorful soup laden with shrimp, hard boiled eggs, corn on the cob + cheese.

Those should keep your tummy happy for a while.

Are you ready to begin your journey to eternal happiness?

Ají colorado

Makes about 14 tablespoons or 1 ice cube tray’s worth

1 – 2-3 ounce bag dried ají panca, California, or New Mexico dried chiles

Use kitchen shears to lop off the stems of the dried chiles and then cut all along the side, lengthwise, exposing the innards and discarding the seeds and membranes. Grab a large fry pan and set it over high heat. Toss the chiles onto the hot pan and toast until fragrant, pliable, and slightly charred, about 1-2 minutes, flipping on other side halfway in between. It might be a good idea to open up the window and turn on the exhaust fan because these can get sort of strong as they cook. Also, wash your hands thoroughly with warm soapy water immediately after handling the chiles.

Put the chiles into a large bowl and pour enough boiling water to submerge them. Let them reconstitute until they’re very soft, about 10 minutes.

Grab the chiles with tongs and put them in a blender. Add about 1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons of the water they were sitting in and blend together until a somewhat smooth paste forms. The consistency should be pourable. If it’s too chunky, add more water, one tablespoon at a time.

At this point you can either put all of it into a glass jar and refrigerate it, which should last you a couple weeks.

Or, you can do what I do and measure out tablespoon amounts, put them into ice cube trays, freeze them, and then dump them out into a bag to stash in the freezer for whenever you need just a bit. This works out especially well for me. You don’t even have to defrost it before adding it to your pot of cooking, you just toss it right in. Unless, you’re using it as a marinade, in which case you’d have to toss it in the micro for half a minute to soften slightly.

It’s as easy as that folks. Trust me when I say that adding  just a tablespoon of this stuff to your food will drastically enhance the flavor, making you the best cook in town.

Provecho!

I’ve been on a read-through-all-my-cookbooks crusade these past few weeks and have stumbled upon a lot of tasty new recipes! For instance, this one from Jamie Oliver was absolutely divine. Super comforting and I have to say it was the best beef pot pie I’ve ever encountered. Also, his unique take on an asparagus and potato tart was a terrific treat to nibble on for lunch. Last week I was in a fungi kind of mood and made Giada’s mushroom ragu, which was also insanely good. After a slow cook-down, the mushrooms melted into one another and made the most luscious, nurturing sauce you can imagine. I served it with cavatappi noodles — the funny little corkscrew ones — and had a ton leftover, which preludes to the recipe herein.

When life hands you noodles, you make…more noodles. And noodle pasta salad.

So this is another one of my “fridge raid” kind of meals, tossing together leftover bits of this and that to create another yummilicious bowl of food for the week. I had just about everything already, except for the salmon, so this was truly super easy to make. With that said, you can obviously substitute things in here that you don’t have and still make it work. The salmon is not crucial (but it’s oh-so delicious!) and you could easily swap it for good olive-oil packed tuna, grilled shrimp, or poached chicken. The sauce is totally adaptable too and you’re free to scale the ingredients up or down depending on your taste buds. I like it spicy so I went crazy with the sriracha sauce. Up to yous.

Directions:

Bring a large pot of water to boil, season with a ton of salt and then drop in the cavatappi noodles, stir and let cook to al dente. Drain and then set aside in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper and give it a toss.

Turn on the broiler.

Put the salmon, skin side down on a baking sheet. Pat dry. Season with a generous sprinkle of salt and pepper. Squeeze lemon juice over the top and then brush melted butter all over. Put the salmon under the broiler and let it brown and cook for about 8-10 minutes. The fish is done when it gives just slightly to the touch — please don’t overcook the fish. It’s a sin. Let the salmon cool for a bit and then shred into big chunks with a fork. Set it aside.

To make the sauce, combine the mayo, sour cream, mustard, worcestershire sauce, sriracha sauce, smoked paprika, lemon juice, maple syrup, and salt and pepper in a bowl and mix with a whisk. Taste it, adding more spice and seasonings to fit your preference. Set this aside.

Add the sliced red onions to the pasta and then dump in a few tablespoons of the sauce, coating the noodles. Toss everything around carefully. Add in the salmon, chopped parsley, and a few handfuls of whatever greens you have — I used a mix of fresh mache and spring greens, but baby spinach, arugula, or kale would be great in here. Mix again gently and taste it. Season with more salt and pepper if you’d like.

This should keep in the fridge for several days. Eat it cold or at a slight room temperature. It tastes better as it sits, too. Perfect for weekday lunches!

Provecho comrades!

When my dad ran the Japanese restaurant years ago, my mom would bake this cake every week, cutting them into square portions and wrap them up in plastic wrap to be sold at the counter for something like 50 cents. This quesadilla isn’t the cheese-filled tortilla that you’re accustomed to; instead it’s an El Salvadorian sweet and slightly savory cake moistened with sour cream and flavored with parmesan cheese. Kind of a strange combination of ingredients at first read but after you taste it you’ll realize that it works deliciously. This cake isn’t going to win any beauty pageants but it will win your adoration. It’s a breeze to make and you’ll be rewarded with tasty sweets to nibble on all week long.

Here’s the recipe direct from mom –

I baked it for about 35 minutes but gauge on checking it anywhere from 25-35 minutes, depending on the strength of your oven. Mine kind of sucks. When it’s set in the middle and the top is golden brown it’s done. Oh, and my mom doesn’t add sesame seeds on top like I did but after doing some research on authentic quesadilla cakes and noticing that most of them included it, I did too. I think it looks pretty.

Me and my mom when we lived at the ranch, circa 1988

There are few holidays that excite me more than St. Patrick’s day. The allure of hanging with friends at the crack of dawn, imbibing on Guinness and Irish whiskey, and snacking on black pudding– a form of blood sausage, is too great for me to ignore. And this year will be no different, as I constantly look up at the calendar to see how many days remain until the day comes.

In the last year I’ve been trying to like whiskey. Drinking it makes me feel prim, proper, genteel. Don’t be surprised — you know I’m weird like that. Luckily, all of my insistence has paid off and I’m starting to get a taste for it, picking out nuances and allying with favorites. Jameson Irish whiskey is very easy to drink; it’s super smooth and slightly sweet with a creamy finish. If you’re just beginning to try whiskey, I’d recommend this one as a primer.

Sometime in the winter I saw a recipe for boozy oatmeal, which included whiskey or bourbon (can’t for the life of me remember where I saw it!), which I immediately thought was utterly magnificent. Pretty soon afterwards I made my own hurried and messy concoction, on several blustery nights, and fell hard in love with the combination of sweet, sticky syrup + throat-warming whiskey/bourbon. I ate this always in my pj’s on the couch around 9 p.m., when fleshy yearning struck.

I never got around to posting about it then but am now since it’s too good not to be shared. And since St. Patty’s day is just around the corner I thought it apropos to adapt it slightly to match the jovial and festive nature of the times. Warm your tummy up with a bowlful of this ante-morning drinks to steel yourself for an entire day of merriment.

Sticky Irish porridge with dark brown sugar + whiskey

Toasting the oats before softening reinforces the natural nutty flavor while the hybrid evaporated milk and water simmering liquid make it voluptuously creamy. 

Makes enough for several comrades to enjoy pre- St. Patrick’s day festivities

Ingredients:

To prepare oats – 

1 cup McCann’s steel cut Irish oatmeal

2 cups evaporated milk

2 cups water

1 cinnamon stick, broken in half

To prepare porridge (per serving) – 

1 cup cooked Irish oatmeal

1 tablespoon dark brown sugar

1 teaspoon maple syrup

Pinch salt

1 1/2 tablespoons evaporated milk

1 teaspoon Irish whiskey (I used Jameson)

Instructions:

First make the oatmeal. In a large fry pan, toast the oats over medium-high heat until fragrant and nutty, about 5 minutes, tossing frequently. Set aside.

Grab a medium sauce pot and fill with the evaporated milk, water and cinnamon stick; bring to the boil. Add the toasted oats and stir. Let this come back up to a boil and stir constantly until mixture gets a little thicker than it started, about 5-7 minutes. Lower the heat to simmer and leave uncovered, stirring every 7-10 minutes. It takes about 25-30 minutes for the oats to cook properly and absorb the liquid.

At this point, you can choose to cover and stash in the fridge for later or eat right away. To serve, pour a cup of the oatmeal into a bowl and stir in the brown sugar, maple syrup, salt and evaporated milk. You want this piping hot so zap in the microwave if it’s cooled down. Right before you eat it, drizzle in the spot of whiskey and sprinkle with additional cinnamon.

God how I love anchovies. Ever since discovering bagna cauda I haven’t been able to curb my craving for them for long, often going out of my way to run to the market to pick up ingredients for it as an impromptu lunch or dinner. The combination of salty anchovies and garlic is so sublime that I honestly can’t formulate enough words to say.

I came across the recipe for Midnight Pasta a while back and made it almost immediately, falling in love with those familiar flavors of briny fish and garlic. Despite the name, I would eat this whenever desire strikes, which is often with intensity.

Here’s a riff off of that pasta and bagna cauda with much more anchovies and spice plus the addition of broccolini, which to me, is the perfect sponge for absorbing all the delectable bits of salty goodness.

Farro spaghetti with anchovies, garlic + broccolini

I’ve used farro here because I wanted extra nuttiness in the pasta but you can always opt to switch it with whole wheat or regular pasta noodles. The Turkish Aleppo peppers give this a nice fruitiness that compliments the olive oil but if you don’t happen to have some laying around, pinch in some red pepper flakes instead but cautioning to use only half a teaspoon as they are hotter. 

Makes enough for 2 – 4 lovelies, as a lunch

Ingredients:

8 ounces farro spaghetti

2 ounces anchovies packed in olive oil, a standard box

3 tablespoons fruity extra virgin olive oil

4 garlic cloves, chopped roughly

2 tablespoons capers, chopped roughly

1 teaspoon dried crushed Aleppo pepper

1/2 bunch broccolini, florets only

Parmesan cheese shards, to serve

Instructions:

Cook the noodles in boiling salted water until al dente, about 6-8 minutes. Drain and dump into a bowl. Drizzle with a smidge of olive oil and season with salt and pepper; toss and set aside.

In a medium-sized sauce pan, tumble in the chopped anchovies plus the olive oil they were packed in, the extra tablespoons of olive oil, garlic, capers, and Aleppo pepper. Turn on the flame and allow to simmer for a couple minutes. Take it off the heat and gently mix in the broccolini florets, tossing to coat. Then, add the spaghetti noodles and give it one final tumble before plating. Serve with plenty of extra Aleppo pepper flakes and Parmesan cheese.

Buen provecho!

90210. Now, that was quality television. I’m not alone on this am I? When this show first came out I was still in middle school — unruly spiral hair, buck-teeth, neon slap bracelet, the whole kit and caboodle. Yes, I was a prize.

Wednesday nights were the most anticipated day of the week and I would sit there in front of the TV with my finger pressed to record the show and add to my extensive collection of soaps and music videos. I was kind of a nerd (well, still am) and made it a weekly affair to go through the entire TV Guide, highlight shows to watch, record them, and then watch them again later. Oh, I would also keep track of the order on 3 x 5 index cards and stash them inside the tapes. *blink*

Next to Wednesdays, Thursdays were my second favorite day of the week because that meant I could re-watch last night’s episode as soon as I got back home from school. Why I did this, I will never learn. What I do know is that, come 3:15 pm, I would pull up a TV tray and eat fried fish, cooked up by my grandma, with bottled ranch dressing, a glass of Tang and watch Dylan and Brenda have yet another row about virginity.

This is my updated, grown-up version of the fried fish I used to love minus the frizzy hair.

Panko-crusted fried catfish

Serves 2-4

Ingredients:

1 cup panko

2 teaspoons flake sea salt

2 teaspoons black pepper

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon dried parsley + more for garnish

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 tablespoon paprika

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

Salt and pepper

1 egg, lightly beaten with smidge water

2 teaspoons spicy mustard

1 1/4 lbs. catfish filets, cut into quarters

Canola oil, for frying

Lemon wedges, to serve

Lemon aioli or tartar sauce, to serve

Instructions:

In a large plate, mix together the panko, salt, black pepper, thyme, parsley, garlic powder, cayenne pepper and paprika. Set aside.

In another large plate, combine the flour with a generous dash of salt and pepper. Set this aside as well.

In a shallow bowl, whisk the egg wash with the mustard.

Grab a large fry pan and fill with canola oil, enough to go about 1/2″ up the sides of the pan and turn up the flame to medium-high.

Start by dredging the catfish in the seasoned flour and shaking off any excess. Swish around in the egg and mustard slurry, letting extra drip off before dunking into panko spice mix. Pack firmly and then give one final shake before carefully adding to the hot, shimmery oil to fry. Cook until golden brown and crunchy, about 3-4 minutes first side and then 3 minutes the other. Let drain on a paper towel-lined platter. Continue with the rest.

Serve immediately, piping hot with plenty of lemon quarters and sauce for dipping.

♥ Provecho friends!

My proclivity for rich, custardy breads can probably be traced back to times when I was still living at my parent’s house. Above the fridge, betwixt medicine and vitamin bottles and faux flower arrangements, sat bags of assorted breads, piled high and ready for the week’s consumption. There would be French baguettes, Italian rolls, white sandwich bread, buttery croissants. And if I was lucky: sweet, eggy bread from the Chinese bakery. I loved them so much I would sneak slices in throughout the day, hungry or not, just to satiate the yen.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, for my thigh’s sake, I haven’t been able to find a place that sells them where I live now. To fill that void, I’ve been buying King’s Hawaiian sweet breads, kindred in flavor and texture to the ones I grew up loving. Normally, I would just eat them plain or with a schmear of Irish butter but this week I had something else in mind.

I’d been toying around with an idea for bread pudding using King’s and adding a good sploshing of heady hard liquor but wasn’t settling on a good balance of flavors. I must have flitted through and scrapped a gazillion versions before ultimately deciding to use my old bread pudding recipe, the one with panettone in it, as a starting point.

In the end, what emerged out of the oven was studded with roasted macadamia nuts, filled with a lavish layer of spiced rum-spiked cream cheese, and doused in vanilla bean custard. To seal the deal: a sticky elixir laden with even more rum is poured over the whole thing right before serving.

It’s ooey. It’s gooey. It’s just the thing that will get you up in the morning. Or put you to bed at night.

King’s Hawaiian vanilla bean bread pudding with spiced rum gooey sauce

Makes a 10 x 14 cake pan size

Ingredients:

For the bread pudding – 

1 King’s Hawaiian round sweet bread loaf, cubed into 1″ squares, roughly

8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature

3/4 cup light brown sugar

1/4 cup agave nectar

2 tablespoons spiced rum (I used Jason’s favorite: Captain Morgan)

Pinch salt

6 eggs, beaten lightly

1 cup half and half

1 vanilla bean, halved then seeds scraped and removed

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, Vietnamese if you’ve got it

1/2 cup roasted and salted macadamia nuts, chopped roughly

For the spiced rum gooey sauce – 

1/2 cup half and half

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/4 cup agave nectar

2 tablespoons spiced rum

Pinch salt

Instructions:

Grease a 10 x 14 cake pan with butter. Tumble in half of the cubed bread and spread it out nicely. In a medium-sized bowl, mix together the cream cheese, light brown sugar, agave nectar, spiced rum and salt. Spread this mixture over the bread in the pan. It’s a bit on the thick side, so use a spoon or knife to make sure it evenly covers all cubes. Add the last layer of bread cubes over the top and spread out. In the bowl with the lightly beaten eggs, add the half and half, vanilla bean seeds, and ground cinnamon and whisk to combine. Pour this over the bread cubes, making sure all of it gets doused well. Press down gently to saturate every cube. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, preheat the oven to 350 degrees and set the bread pudding out on the counter to come up to room temperature slightly.

Sprinkle the top with the chopped macadamia nuts. Place the pan on the middle rack of the oven and bake for about 45 minutes to 1 hour or until the middle is set. If the top starts to brown too quickly, throw a piece of foil over it. Honestly though, the crunchy bits on top are my favorite.

Let this sit for about 15-20 minutes before serving. While you’re waiting, make the sauce.

In a small saucepan set over medium heat, warm the half and half, light brown sugar, agave nectar, spiced rum and salt. Let it come to a slight bubble and let it reduce and thicken, about 5 minutes. Pour this directly over the bread pudding when you’re about to serve. Delish.