Kahlua Chocolate Pots de Creme & Thyme Whipped Cream

This is my lunchbox revival. A chance to remember the moments that are hard to forget. I can flip through the written pages in my mind to a time when chocolate pudding was synonymous with cafeterias and school lunches and being a kid. I can even remember the sound made when you pulled back the plastic lid on your pudding like it was yesterday. I lived for lunchtime. Dessert time.


Growing up chocolate was my calling card. If Superman had kryptonite, I had that. It made me weak and foolish. If my mom needed something done around the house it would be followed with a threat of no dessert, no chocolate. I don't know if that's even legal. Certainly there's some unwritten parent code that you can't pull out the no-dessert comment to get something done. It doesn't even work.


Ok, it worked.

As the years have passed, the same bad good habits have followed me. I still need chocolate to pull me out of a funk and I can still be bribed with it. Sad. You would think I learned my lesson by now and be mentally strong enough to withstand it. I'm not. Luckily i'm the one making dinner and dessert now. I have a bit more say on the direction it takes.


I wanted to make something that satisfied my chocolate needs in a dessert that harks back to those younger, sometimes better days. This is my grown up version. A rich and thick pudding loaded with flavour that's like having a chocolate injection after dinner. 

This recipe is a traditional French custard. Although it often calls for dark chocolate,  I used milk-chocolate because it gives me a smooth and silky finish to the pudding. It's just a bit smoother which is the way I like it. It's the perfect dessert because the prep is quick and the presentation is easy. 


Enjoy this the next time you have guests coming over or surprise your partner with this on Valentine's Day (speaking of which, food and poetry is the best way to your partner's hear. See below). You can make it a couple days ahead of time serve them in countless different vessels. I used small coffee cups but the choice is yours.


From my kitchen to yours, happy eating!

Kahlua Chocolate Pots de Creme


The Goods:

• 1 1/2 cups heavy cream
• 1/4 cup Kahlua
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 6 oz. milk-chocolate, chopped
• 6 egg yolks
• 1 tbsp. sugar
• pinch of salt
• whipped cream mix with 2 tbsp. finely chopped thyme, for garnish
• Shaved chocolate, for garnish

Prep:

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
2. Add the chopped chocolate to a large bowl and let sit. Meanwhile, heat the cream and a pinch of salt in a saucepan until it just comes to a bowl. Remove from the heat and pour the hot cream over the chocolate and whisk until smooth. Once it cools slightly, add in the Kahlua and vanilla and stir.
3. In another mixing bowl, whisk the egg yolks and sugar to blend. Slowly add in the warm chocolate mixture while stirring often. Strain the entire mixture through a sieve into another bowl and let cool for 10 minutes.
4. Divide the mixture amongst 6 ramekins or cups 3/4 cup in size. Cover each with foil and place on a baking pan filled with hot water so the cups are half-immersed in water. 
5. Bake for 30 minutes or until set but middle moves slightly when shaken. Remove from the water and remove foil. 
6. Cover each with plastic wrap and chill until cold, about 3 hours.
7. Serves 6.

**Valentine's Day is right around the corner now. I'd like to think I won my wife over with my food, but that wasn't entirely the case. I wrote stories and poems to her, and in honour of the most romantic day of the year I give you this: the first poem I ever wrote to her.

Listening to jazz--
punctuated by falling rain
as it hits each window pane--
my mind wanders in and out of you,
curious, yet
cautious

I make excuses
why you're not quite for me
when really
I've no right to say--
but everyone before you
has ended in just
me,
so why should now be
any different?

Not that i'm looking for a
we--
not just yet, but
maybe
someday
when my heart finally decides
to fall for this mysterious woman
in the unwritten pages of my future,
when i'm no longer a fool for trying
because I don't have to try
I just have to be
me--

And then I'll be there
and one
with you
and we'll embrace
listening to jazz
punctuated by falling rain
as it hits each window pane--
and we'll laugh at how incomplete
the music was before us
and we'll weep at the beautiful harmony
we create--
you and me.