Please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents under the tree...

    As you may have gathered, I was home for Christmas only in my dreams. As the day(s) quickly approached, an overbearing sense of gloom and loneliness set in. I knew the only way to banish these feelings would be to battle them with food. I invited a few friends over, made way too much to eat, even for us enthusiasts (read:fatties), sampled my homemade, very boozy limoncello, and let Mr. Cole and Sinatra serenade our night to a satisfying conclusion. Like Thanksgiving, it was hard for me to picture Christmas without the typical gift-giving, tree-trimming, family bonding time that I'm used to. But. Christmas happened all the same. To quote the venerable Dr. Seuss, "

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, 

stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

     Obviously, I do not have termites in my soul, however, it did take a little searching in there to come to this conclusion. So, as we approach the new year, I encourage all of you to appreciate what you have and to make the best of every situation. My next post will most likely be my last one from Italy, so get ready for some big changes around here! 

(Blurry Pierogies) 

(Followed by blurry latkes)

(Friends celebrating St. Stephen's Feast day)

(Charlie Brown Christmas tree)

(The Alps are alive with the sound of muuuuusssssic)

Pierogies

     Pierogies are Polish dumplings that are normally filled with potato and can also include cheese and meat. The Italians called them "Polish Ravioli". Surprised face. Anyway, it's best to make the dough first. Start by making a well in the flour and add the egg and sour cream. Add a pinch of salt and start to bring the mixture together with a fork. Now, slowly add the lukewarm water until it is incorporated. The dough will be sticky, but it will take in a little extra flour as you're rolling, so don't fret. Let the dough rest for at least half an hour, loosely covered. 

     The filling is also brutally simple. Peel, cube, and boil 2-3 large potatoes in salted water until they are fork tender. Drain the water and mash the potatoes with some grated cheese (I used provolone, because hey, I'm in Italy) and add salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

     Now is a good time to start cooking down your onions to go with the pierogies. I forgot about this little bit and ended up frying our onions in leftover latke oil which was still screaming hot. Not only did they cook faster, but I also got to add more fried food to my already INCREDIBLY healthy diet. Normally, all you need to do is slice the onions and saute them with some butter, salt, and pepper until they cook down to golden morsels. 

    Flour your work surface and choose a round glass or cookie cutter that has roughly a 3 inch diameter. Liberally flour the dough and rolling pin (or wine bottle if you're classy like me) and cut out the rounds. Fill each round with about a tablespoon of potato mixture and crimp the dough into a half-moon shape with a fork. Place the now finished pierogie onto a waxed or floured surface as they will stick to everything, especially each other. 

    Cooking the pierogies is a two-step process. First, the dumplings need to be boiled, or rather, simmered at a high heat. I feel like a rolling boil can be too harsh for the dough. After they have been partially cooked in the water (they will float to the top and ask to be taken out of the pool when they are ready), they are pan fried, like Asian dumplings. At this point, I put rude amounts of butter into the pan and reintroduce the onions to the party. When the pierogies start to get a nice golden color and have crisped a bit, they are finished! Serve them warm with sour cream (mandatory) and apple sauce, if you like. Luckily, latkes also like these additions. Consider eating them together and then dying. 

Note: I know that this can seem like a lot of work, and it is. Three of us put a good bit of time and effort into these lovelies. Luckily, they freeze very well. Place the (uncooked) pierogies on a sheet tray and freeze them flat. After they have frozen, you can transfer them into a bag and they will last for a lifetime. Just joshin, but I can't give a definitive time because mine never last long enough to be frozen.

Recipe

Adapted from Noble Pig

Makes around 23-25 pierogies

Dough

2-1/2 c unbleached, all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt
1 large egg
3 Tbsp regular sour cream
3/4 c lukewarm water

Filling

2-3 large Russet potatoes (peeled and cubed)

3/4 c grated cheddar cheese

salt and pepper to taste

Onions

3-4 large onions, sliced into rings

2 Tbsp butter

salt and pepper

     Boots of Spanish Jamon

     It's hard to admit, but my last study trip has come and gone and this is my last week of school in Italy! As you can imagine, I have a lot of emotions pulsing through me right now and it's been a whirlwind of a month so far. In three weeks, I'll be starting a new portion of my life in the UK, leaving this funny little Mediterranean boot behind. Before I do, I plan on getting a few more festive posts in to show that I'm not a big ol grinch, contrary to my recent tweeting habits...aiyah. Here are some of the pictures from our recent trip to the southern most portion of Spain, Andalusia. As a side note, I haven't written in a while as my computer started producing unwanted vocal percussive beats of doom. Said beats have subsided for now, #neverforget #italianhail2014. 

Grinch-colored olive oil

A pit for aging olives outside...and hiding murders

Vegetable plot on the citrus farm we visited

We always seem to see at least one donkey

Citrus grove that dreams are made of

Big, ol crawdads

     As my first time traveling in Spain, I can say it wasn't what I expected,but it was pretty wonderful. Except for losing my coat. I want that back. 

     To change pace a bit, tonight I'm making latkes with some friends to celebrate the first nigth of Hanukkah (don't worry, one of us is Jewish, we don't just appropriate everything we please). Expect a lot of fried food and Christmas cookies next time you see this ugly mug around these parts. Until then, Happy Hanukkah, yous guys! 

      Thanksgiving in Piemonte
   
      In a few hours (yes, at this God-awful, early time) I will be heading off to Spain for my last study trip as part of my university studies. As excited as I am to eat 12 servings of churros everyday, I also can't shake the little feeling of sadness over missing Thanksgiving...PSYCH! We already celebrated Thanksgiving last week in anticipation of our last journey. Thanksgiving abroad was definitely an odd experience. Riding my bike with a 20 lb. turkey in the back...unpleasant. Fitting said turkey into a baby, Italian oven...maddening. In the end, all the blood (metaphorically), sweat (literally), and tears(hard to say) were worth it; many of my friends enjoyed Thanksgiving for the first time that day. Was the dinner perfect? Far from it, but the company was grand and peckish European appetites resulted in copious amounts of leftovers. Here's a look at the festivities: 

(Photo: Nicole Martorana)

(Photo: Nicole Martorana)

(Photo: Nicole Martorana)

(Photo: Nicole Martorana)

(Photo: Nicole Martorana)

Homemade Pumpkin Pie

(400F for 15 min. --- 350F for remaining 50-55 min.)

     

 Crust (Adapted from Cook's Illustrated)

• 2 1/2 cups (360 grams) all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 tablespoon sugar, optional
• 1 cup (227 grams) very cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes (2 sticks)
• 6 to 8 tablespoons ice water
• 
  
• Filling (adapted from Savory Sweet Life)
• 
  
• 2 cups pureed pumpkin
• ¾ cup packed brown sugar
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• ¾ teaspoon cinnamon
• ¼ teaspoon nutmeg
• 2 eggs
• 1 egg yolk
• ½ cup evaporated milk
• ½ cup heavy cream

     First, make the crust at least 6 hours before you plan on making the pie. Combine 1 1/2 cups of the flour with the sugar, salt, and butter until it forms a paste. Cut the remaining flour in and add the water slowly, reserving the last two tablespoons in case of a drier mixture. Form the dough into balls and refrigerate for at least a few hours. 

     To make the filling, again, you should start in advance. Peel, cut and roast your pumpkin pieces at a low tempurature (200F) for 2-3 hours until they have darkened and shrunk. Add them to a blender with a few tablespoons of water and blend until smooth. Add more water if the mixture isn't blending properly. Add the spices and the evaporated milk. Transfer mixture to a bowl and add the salt, sugar, eggs, and cream. Once everything is mixed well, pour the mixture into the prepared pie dish. Bake until lightly set, about 60-75 minutes. Serve with ice cream and/or whipped cream. 

     Giovanni Apple Seed

     Gossip Girl style confessional: I have only had one mildly good apple here in Italy. That is to say, there ain't any fine eatin apples in this place. Sure, there are plenty of baked things I could make with these specimens, but if you recall from an apple post about a year ago, I really prefer raw apples. I guess that means I will no longer try to be healthy and eat an apple a day; instead, I'm going to bake apple goodies everyday and probably fall into a fructose-induced coma. I'M SORRY, MOM, I'm meek of mind and heart, I was never meant for this world! I thought it best to start out slow with this hybrid recipe. I can't get too crazy, seeing as our Thanksgiving in Piemonte is this Thursday! Wish me luck in educating my little corner of the world on why Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

Persimmon Applesauce

To be honest, this post was also a vehicle  for testing out some photos. I'm really trying to improve on this aspect of blogging, though I do not profess to truly enjoy or thrive at food photography. Would interpretive dance be more clear? Maybe? 

Mmmmm, back lighting only possible during school hours...wait...

So natural! 

     This recipe, if you can even call it that, is as simple as they come. Peel, core, and dice your apples. I went with a mix to balance sweet and tart flavors. Next, peel and dice your ripe persimmons. They should be fairly soft. I also removed the slightly fibrous middle because I clearly don't care about food waste. Add both the persimmon and apple cubes to a pot, cover with water, sprinkle in the sugar, and let the lot simmer for an hour. I included two cloves and some cardamom, but you could use any warm spices you like. A pinch of salt at the end really lifts all of the fruity goodness. Lastly, you can leave the mixture chunky or smooth, but I was feeling smooth that day. If you're like me, make sure to remove your whole spices before blending. There you have it, go forth and eat your baby food in supreme, autumnal happiness. 

Recipe

5 large apples, peeled, cored, and diced 

2 persimmons, peeled and diced

1/2 tsp ground cardamom 

2 whole cloves 

1/4 c of sugar

pinch of salt

water to cover

PS- If your fruit still needs to cook a bit but the water has evaporated, add a bit more until you reach the promised land. 

 

      Far East Piñatas, Italian Halloween, Pumpkin Horchata

     I have to say, Halloween leaves continental Europe completely dumbfounded:
          "You want me to wear a COSTUME to your party?"
          "This is not good party music...what is this Monster Mash??"
          "Why are there worms in this dirt pudding?!??!?!?!?"

     Needless to say, my Halloween party was a smashing success, Jack-O-Lantern and all. My only regret was the aggressive amounts of face paint I used which ultimately resulted in conjunctivitis. I've kind of been a hot mess as of late. Since I was feeling pretty down about my weepy, disfigured face, I felt like it was a great idea to attend a Mexican food inspired birthday bash. Naturally, I made horchata for the event and added pumpkin to make it more #fallbasic. I hope that starts trending. It was worth the effort, which means it was perfection because I always forget how much I hate making horchata. The party also came equipped with a home-made piñata! Instead of filling the devil, they just pelted us with the candy. A nice touch. Later that week, I told my new roommate about the festivities and he became curious about the piñata's origins. That's when it happened. That moment when you hear something you can't un-hear. Piñatas, are in fact, FROM CHINA. I can't, I just can't. I hope to God this coming week is less traumatic than this last beast. Here's the recipe for the horchata, if you too feel like hosting an ethnically ambiguous birthday party. 

Spiced Pumpkin Horchata

     So, this is not my first time 'round the block with horchata. For this reason, I don't really follow a recipe anymore. However, since I'm not a monster, I will create one for you. To begin, add the rice, cinnamon stick, and almonds to your container of water. Cover, place in the fridge,and let sit overnight. The next day, blend the mixture (after removing the cinnamon stick) and strain it a few times until the liquid is smooth. Italy does not support canned pumpkin puree, so I steamed and pureed my own. After it was pureed, I reduced it on the stove for 30 minutes until it deepened in color and flavor. I then added 1/3 c of condensed milk to the pumpkin puree and mixed until incorporated. Let this mixture cool. Once it is cool, you can add it to the almond/rice mixture and stir to combine. The last step is adding a pinch of salt, a 1/2 tsp of cardamom, and milk of your choice (I surprisingly used normal cow's milk). Give everything a strong stir and allow it to chill for at least an hour. It really is at its best icy-cold with a baby splash of rum (or, if you're trashy like me, Malibu). I reckon it will keep for about a week, but why would you take so long to consume such a delicious gift of the gods? 

Recipe

750 ml water

2 c white rice

1/2 c almonds

1 large cinnamon stick

1/3 c condensed milk

1 c pumpkin puree

500 ml milk of choice 

1/2 tsp cardamom

pinch of salt

     Holland Roads: The Path to Modern Food Culture and Tradition

**This addition will be used as an assignment, hopefully adding some nice insight to my previous post**

     When I heard the news that we were going to Holland for one of our study trips, I rejoiced! Although I was upset I didn't get to go as an undergrad while abroad, the whole "coffee shop" and "special brownie" allure didn't really do it for me. Luckily, I was getting a chance to go on a food adventure, virtually reefer-free (I can only speak for myself...).

     The journey began on a fishing boat floating in the Wadden Sea, a southeastern portion of the North Sea. Our hosts made it clear that their work was neither easy nor for the weak of heart. Fishing is a huge industry for the northern portion of the country, and is reflected in the inhabitant's diets. Whether fresh, cooked, cured, or pickled, these people love their seafood. The producers we stayed with have a protected method of fishing, one that is sustainable and in balance with the delicate ecosystem of the Wadden Sea. Unfortunately, this specific way of fishing has also made it difficult to be prosperous in recent years. From hand-picking oysters, mussels, and cockles, to fishing mullet in specially designed nets to reduce by-catch, all of their work produced an excellent product, but at a price that seemed too steep to the outside consumer. This story shows that the desire to keep sustainable tradition alive in Holland is certainly welcome but not always wildly successful. Another producer, with a slightly sour outlook, seemed to have better luck.

(Trying my luck at seafood harvesting at low tide in the Wadden Sea)

     Oos Kesbeke, owner of Kesbeke pickles realized a problem with the cocktail onion a few years back: people in the Netherlands weren't eating them anymore. He remembers that as a child, every household had at least one jar on stand by. Had the Dutch lost the taste for the baby onion, or had they just forgotten it? To find out, they tried focusing their marketing efforts on their onions. They were met with great success. He explained that to him, memory and taste have a very strong connection. He just had to remind people of how tasty they were, and they would begin to appreciate them again. Boy, those little onions were fine, as were all the pickled products. Oos used marketing to get his point across, while Jacco, a honey producer on the island of Texel, relied on word of mouth to promote his product. Small black bees naturally inhabit the island, but are being crowded out by other species. Jacco would come at the request of neighbors to remove black bee hives and transplant them to safer homes. The entire island moves at a slower pace than the mainland and Jacco likes it that way. It allowes him to produce honey in a respectful and sustainable fashion, a way in which Texel folk seem to really enjoy. 

(Secret outdoor pickling in action, complete with floating leaves and pungent aroma) 

(Texel Island's small, black bees, encouraged to come out and play with a little smoke)

 At this point of the story, Holland may seem like the aged great-grandpa that complains when cabbage goes up 10 cents (read: mine). This is only part of Holland's new food legacy. They, along with many countries of the North are embracing technology and applying it to food ways in spectacular applications. Zilte Zeekool, a saline farm, showed us that traditional produce, like potatoes and strawberries, can grow and even thrive in semi-saline environments, In a country that has plenty of water control issues, this is a huge accomplishment on the production side of farming. We also had the opportunity to dine at  Instock, a restaurant that only serves meals made from supermarket waste. While this initially sounded unappealing, the team explained to us that they receive food that has passed its "best sold" or "used by" date, not the expiration. The food was ironically enough very fresh and imaginative. Overall, their case for food waste management was compelling and inspiring.

(Lettuce being grown in brackish water on the Zilte Zeekool test site)

(Salmon starter at Instock, followed by two more great dishes)

  Street food was probably my favorite portion of the trip on a gastronomic level. The Netherlands are a very inclusive society, making for an eclectic melting pot of eating choices. I was told by a friend that I needed to try stroopwafels while I was there and they didn't disappoint. Even though it was rather warm (we were told we brought the unseasonably high temperatures from Italy), the toasty, caramel filled waffle crisps hit the spot. The pickled herring...not so much. Although I'm normally a fan of fish in any form it's given to me, something about it (maybe its high fat content) didn't sit well with me. Croquettes were also on the menu. In Holland they are traditionally prepared with beef, but I opted for shrimp. The texture is not at all what you're expecting but also isn't unpleasant. Although not technically street food, I also had a taro bubble tea and shared lunch with classmates at an Indonesian restaurant. The mixture of old, traditional standbys and new ethnic choices gave the Netherlands high marks in my metropolitan mental food log. 

(Funky fresh pickled herring, certainly not my favorite pickled food)

(Shrimp croquettes, offered with soft bread and yellow mustard)

     The producers all were very memorable to me. Our guide, Jacqueline, a former student from our university, plainly explained that the Dutch tend to be rude and that it is just an unavoidable part of their nature. While I did find this to be true sometimes (mostly while biking and on the fishing boat), I think a more positive way to spin this statement is to liken it to extreme passion. All of the producers, from the brazen fishermen, to the shy brew master, to the boisterous pickle producer, made it very clear that their products were their life, and that they wanted to share that love. Their sense of humor also took some time to settle with the group, leaving us uncomfortable and later in stitches for the rest of the trip. I do believe the oddness becomes them. 

(Our hosts (and cooks) at Isola Bella B&B on Texel Island)

     An idea of the Netherland's food scene should be coming better into focus now, lovers of tradition looking for ways to incorporate them into a modern pace. This mindset is perhaps the strongest in the youth of Amsterdam. They hold the record currently for the largest Slow Food Youth Network and are arguably the most active chapter. Their voice is heard through means of demonstration, social media, and presentations done the world over. These youth members recognize that the food culture they want to experience will not just materialize, it has to be fought for. Although most youth movements tend to be met with opposition by elders, my earlier stories make it clear that all ages and backgrounds in Holland seem to be on-board with this idea. The youth, in this case, are the voice for a people who want to preserve all that their land has to offer. 

     At the end of our trip, I have to say I was really surprised. I don't know what I was expecting to find in terms of a food culture in Holland. I did expect the traditional aspects, but was pleased to see the passion behind keeping these traditions alive. The technological advances also did not surprise me, but the care and hope they had for their work was inspiring. Lastly, it was fabulous to see a youth network that was so invested in the future of their food. For a country so concentrated on sustainability, they were sad to see that food had not been considered. Fast-forward to the present day and you find a culture that works with, not against, their resources in a sustainable and passionate way. Just remember, if someone offers you a "special cookie", it's not just made with their fantastic butter. 

     Under the Tuscan...Haze?


     What do breweries, basil, and hot springs all have in common? In Tuscany, they're all heated by geothermic energy. While wandering its piney hills, the enchanting smell of spoiled eggs fills the air as clouds of stinky gas plume into the horizon. Truly, a picture book setting. Even though the trip was permanently marked with the scent of sulfur, the sublime landscape made up for it. We traveled to bakeries, olive oil mills, wineries, and dairies; all the while, that luscious smell still lingered. I liked it. I liked that it made Tuscany seem less picturesque and more gritty. For a people that choose to omit salt from their breads, hundreds of years after the salt tax was lifted, it seems fitting that they can choose to look like a rose but smell like a ... donkey.

     Toscana

(Donkey dairy farm)

(No salt, ancient grains)

(Olive to oil, all in two days!)

(Pits, skins, and everything else gets reused) 

(Saffron bulbs)

(Geothermic basil)

     This has been a really busy week, and its going to get even busier with the opening of this year's Terra Madre convention. I plan on going for a few days to check things out, look for swag, and visit some shops in Turin. There will be posts about food again soon, but until then, enjoy:

 

  "So I was lost, go count the cost, before you go to the Holland road."

     Sometimes life gets in the way of blog posts, and by life, I mean being deported to work on fishing boats in the middle of the Wadden Sea. Real talk. It's been a fairly busy few weeks, filled with off-shore adventures, movie-making, and a very special confirmation. To start, why don't we take a look at some of the pictorial evidence of my adventures?

Wadden Sea, Texel Island, Amsterdam

     Our latest jaunt was to the Netherlands for an introduction into Dutch living. As an aside, everyone thought I was Dutch and proceeded to speak to me in a bouncy language I only kind of comprehend (thanks, Frau Weston!). The journey began with a stay on a fishing boat filled with pirates, debauchery, and only one working bathroom. Just kidding, we were too tired for any debauchery. We then proceeded to the island, which was filled with producers and consumers promoting slow living. Lastly, Amsterdam offered an interesting view into a metropolitan city that is still very concerned about sustainability and their food future. 

(Low-tide living) 

(Vegetation from a saline farm)

(The Black Bees of Texel)

(Carrots from the garden of our B&B host, Anne)

(Mushrooms grown from compacted sawdust)

(House boats)

(Pickled Herring...distinct)

(Holland really loves anything pickled...)

(but also sweets, like these lil pancakes...)

(and fatty, like these organic fries)

(Incredible bread to start the meal...)

(Which was then featured again in this tomato and bread salad)

(Followed by a fantastic piece of marine delight)

(Almond, vanilla? Hard to say, too full)

(Saying goodbye)

     Many of these pictures, as well as filmed interviews, we made into a film that was evaluated today. Let's just say my spicy sesame noodles made for the day's picnic were more exciting than the finished project...given a month,we could have won ALL the awards. 

     As mentioned above, I received some news last week, confirming my stage in Scotland for the winter. I am super excited to get to spend some time in the UK and have the opportunity to work with such an impressive magazine. If anyone has any tips on fun things to do in Edinburgh, let me know!

    I promise that my next post will have a recipe; I have been creating plenty in the last month and also received a new postcard with which I will hopefully turn out something wonderful for...

     Until then, my dears, enjoy this fine, fall weather :)

     ***ALL photo credit goes to Min Jeon Kim, as my phone got carelessly drunk on the fishing boat and fell into the sea...partially true.***

     I am an "incubus of viral plague."

     How is it already September?? It's like August was firmly in my grasp, and then...poof! Oh, I guess a missed trans-Atlantic flight, domestic feline disputes, and unidentifiable illness can make time fly. If Merly were here, she'd probably react something like this: 

     One benefit of not being home for fall is the absence of the myriad of biddies reciting pumpkin-themed love songs.Yes, I love pumpkins. Yes, I love the turning of leaves and colder days. Oddly enough, so does 99.9% of other people on this planet; the rest aren't to be trusted. That being said, I don't need to document every pumpkin spice latte I sip or every pretty leaf I find. I reckon I won't even be able to here, which does make me a bit sad. As the last days of summer fade away, I'd like to post one of the last meals I made in the states for my best friend's (late) birthday. 

These Are A Few Of Her Favorite Things

     What do we have here...looks like some crab cakes and Caesar salad. It just so happens that some of her favorite things go great together for a summer meal. Every time I look up crab cake recipes, I always end up just making up my own. A new one. Every time. For this reason, it is difficult for me to provide a recipe. However, here are a few hints: 

1. Never use too much filler; whether it's vegetables or starch, your aim is to have the crab's natural flavor and texture shine through.

2. Since crab is already moist, you do not want to add excessive moisture or the cakes may fall apart during the cooking process. 

3. Pick quality crab for this recipe. Bigger bits of meat, especially from the claw, will make for a more visually enticing and delicious meal. 

    You may be thinking, "Creme Brulee is a little heavy for summer, no?" So are Uggs, but do you see me complaining...a lot? When she took me on a date earlier in the summer, we shared this dessert and I decided that my newly unearthed kitchen torched needed to be used one more time. In case you were wondering, this is like an 8 oz. vessel. Mistakes. Regrets, delicious regrets. 

   To make the creme portion, heat together the cream, half the sugar, and the vanilla bean seeds for 7-8 minutes, being sure not to boil the mixture. Meanwhile, in a medium sized bowl, mix the egg yolks with the remaining sugar and salt. Slowly temper the egg mixture by gently pouring the cream mixture over it, about 1/4 cup at a time, whisking all the while. Once you have done this a few times, you can add the egg-laced mixture to the pot and heat it until the mixture has thickened, 5-7 minutes. Strain the mixture into a new bowl. Cover.

   Time to make a water bath. Place your ramekins into a deep baking dish and evenly fill each vessel with the cream mixture. This filled a little over 4 of my giant ramekins. Place the dish into the pre-heated oven and then ever so carefully pour previously boiled (and still hot) water into the dish, covering the ramekins about halfway. This will allow the custard to bake evenly.

    You can either take the entire tray out of the oven or you can use tongs to retrieve your custards. I chose the former with no noticeable burns. After the custards have chilled out in the fridge, covered, for at least two hours, they can receive their burnt, sugar top. Sprinkle the sugar onto each ramekin and either hit em with a torch or stick them under the broiler until they begin to caramelize. I prefer the torch for two reasons: For starters, you have more visual control over the situation; many a broiler has taken my food from dark to dead in a matter of seconds. Also, the torch doesn't heat up the custard as much as the broiler does. Do note that this last step should happen right before you plan on serving. 

Recipe

Creme Brulee adapted from the blog the kitchy kitchen

300 F 30-35 min

4 cups heavy cream

3/4 cups sugar

1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise

8 large egg yolks

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

12 tablespoons sugar