I was exhausted. The whole household was feeling the aftermath of a big party when we found ourselves needing to head to someone’s house for a small gathering. In retrospect, I think I made something to bring quite possibly because I was even too tired to run out and pick something out at the market. I think we’ve all been there.
A situational assessment surfaced the obvious fact that I had a boatload of hot dog buns left over from the day before, though I’d long run out of hot dogs themselves. Bread pudding surfaced as a likely direction to go with.
Strangely enough, none of my cookbooks seemed to have any bread pudding recipes. I remembered the extra can of crushed pineapple I had in the pantry from when I’d made pineapple soufflé (which is pretty much a bread pudding anyway) for a Thanksgiving holiday. A resolution was at hand.
One of the odd things about me is that, while I have plenty of crockery to spare, I really don’t want to leave it someplace – even among friends – and have to track it down later (I also like having the freedom to leave whenever I want without waiting on my servingware to free up). Rest assured, if I ever do leave a platter or dish at your house, I am willing to part ways with it forever.
That said, I like the sort of things I cook the soufflés and bread puddings in a bit too much to put both of us in that, admittedly neurotic, position, so I needed to think on my feet a bit. It was time to experiment!
I got to test out how it would work to cook a bread pudding in a bundt-style pan and serve it, unmolded, on a (disposable) plate. It should be noted that other puddings (of the steamed, figgy variety) are prepared in shaped molds and always, always unmolded for serving, but those are definitely denser. This seemed to be a different, structural curiosity.
Apart from the regular greasing of the pan (I made sure to use the baking spray to try to ensure it would release well – while I’m definitely capable of buttering and flouring a pan the old-fashioned way, the spray is so seductively easy), the only real change I made seemed like another no-brainer: taking the brown sugar I’d been instructed to sprinkle over the top of the soufflé and instead putting it at the bottom of the bundt form before pouring everything in. This way, I hoped to have an appealing, caramel-like crust/ooze crowning the finished product. Though I’ve never made one, this is probably like how upside down cakes work.
I’d been worried the brown sugar would stick, but I was thrilled to see it unmolded much, much better than expected.
I’m glad to have discovered a new way to present something traditional, and also find a new use for the fairly ridiculous number of bundt pans I’ve managed to stockpile over the years.