An ode to custard: The sweet sauce I simply can’t live without
To you, the mother of all desserts.
From fresh to pre-packaged, you are superior; the perfect accompaniment to so many treats, yet also capable of standing perfectly on your own.
From bread-and-butter pudding to old-fashioned crème brûlée; malva to nostalgic multi-coloured jelly. To say nothing of the Christmas trifle, every variation filled with layers of creamy bounty.
Your humble beginnings (just eggs, milk and sugar) lead to a spectacular velvet dessert soup no one can resist. Whether flavoured with chocolate, topped with cinnamon or specked with vanilla seeds.
Whipping up a batch of you is so calming and rewarding. (Though buying you can be just as nice.) You’re filled with protein and calcium, in case I was doubting having just one more helping.
Warm or cold; thick or thin, your refined taste is one for which my taste buds always long. Whether you’re made with almond or full-fat cow’s milk, nothing can detract from the pristine flavour you hold.
From grandmother’s nostalgic recipe to my favourite shop-bought version, you’ve stood the test of time (since ancient Rome!) and have become dear to so many.
Your soft yellow colour is happiness, delivered by the spoonful, and I haven’t forgotten that almost every good ice cream begins with you. (Nor have I forgotten milk tart, pasteis de nata or custard cake.)
From summer to winter and everything in between, the joy you bring to the world is impossible to measure – at least not before another spoonful…
