Bagel Bread Pudding with Bourbon Sauce

November 2031. The first curriculum cohort finished in November. The final session was a shared meal that each student contributed to—something they'd learned to make during the twelve weeks, prepared at home, brought to share. The spread was extraordinary: three different versions of bean bread at various stages of mastery, fry bread, kanuchi that Grace had made correctly and which made the room smell like what it should smell like, a corn soup that a sixteen-year-old named David had been practicing every week since session four, dried sumac preparations, a pawpaw custard from my own fruit that a middle-aged woman named Sheryl had made after I'd described the process in week seven.

I ate from every dish and wrote notes. The kanuchi was right. The bean bread ranged from almost right to better than I'd done my first time. David's corn soup was careful and good. Sheryl's custard needed more time to cook but the instinct was correct.

At the end of the meal I said a few words. I said: you've been doing something that matters. I said: every time you make one of these preparations you're keeping something alive that would otherwise stop. I said: the people who know this in their hands and in their kitchens are the only protection the knowledge has. I said: go home and make it. Come back next year if you want more.

Ten of the twelve signed up for the second cohort. Grace said she'd been waiting her whole life for this class. I said: it was waiting for you too.

Sheryl’s pawpaw custard needed more time in the oven — the instinct was right, the timing just wasn’t there yet — and that stayed with me after everyone went home. There’s a particular kind of learning that only heat and patience can teach, and it lives in custard-based desserts more than almost anywhere else. This bagel bread pudding with bourbon sauce isn’t kanuchi, and it isn’t pawpaw, but it belongs to the same family of preparations: eggs and milk and time transforming something plain into something that asks you to slow down. I’ve made it at the end of long teaching days when I needed something warm and forgiving, and it has never failed me.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

4 day-old plain or cinnamon-raisin bagels, cut into 1-inch cubes (about 8 cups)
3 cups whole milk
3 large eggs
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
For the Bourbon Sauce:
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
1 egg yolk
3 tablespoons bourbon
2 tablespoons heavy cream

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with butter or nonstick spray and set aside.
Arrange the bagels. Spread the bagel cubes in an even layer in the prepared baking dish.
Make the custard. In a large bowl, whisk together the milk, eggs, granulated sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt until the sugar is fully dissolved and the mixture is smooth.
Soak the bagels. Pour the custard evenly over the bagel cubes. Press the pieces down gently with the back of a spoon so they absorb the liquid. Let the dish sit for 15 minutes, pressing down once or twice more as the bagels soak.
Add butter and bake. Drizzle the melted butter over the top. Bake uncovered for 40–45 minutes, until the top is golden brown and the custard is set in the center with just a slight wobble. A knife inserted in the middle should come out mostly clean.
Make the bourbon sauce. While the pudding bakes, melt the 4 tablespoons of butter in a small saucepan over low heat. Whisk in the powdered sugar and egg yolk until smooth, then stir in the bourbon and heavy cream. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, for 3–4 minutes until the sauce thickens slightly. Do not boil.
Rest and serve. Let the pudding cool for 10 minutes before slicing. Spoon the warm bourbon sauce over individual portions just before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Bagel Bread Pudding with Bourbon Sauce — The Custard That Brought Us Full Circle