← Back to Blog

Chocolate Pots de Crème — The Valentine’s Day Wall

I passed my practicum midterm with a 94. The evaluation was based on clinical performance observed by a preceptor and a written case presentation. I had been nervous. I should not have been. I am a competent clinician. I have been one for nine years. I am simply operating now with the NP scope layered on top of my existing RN foundation. The midterm was a formality. I told Dr. Rashid. He said "of course you did, Kate." He was pleased.

Sean's birthday is next Saturday. February 25. He would have been thirty-nine. I have been thinking about it all week. I am not sure what I will do. I may make the pork ragu he loved. I may not do anything. I may take the kids to the three-decker and have my parents do it. I have not decided.

I made a beef stew Sunday. The long braise. Good stew. Liam ate two bowls.

Valentine's Day was Wednesday. Liam brought me a handmade card from school — construction paper heart, red marker. He wrote "I LOVE YOU MOMMY" himself. I cried at the kitchen table. I hung the card on the fridge next to the one from last year that Sean had written for me. The two cards next to each other. The Valentine's Day wall.

The stew carried the week — warm and slow and necessary — but Valentine’s Day asked for something else. After I hung Liam’s card next to Sean’s on the fridge and let myself cry a little, I wanted to make something just for the quiet of it, something that took patience and felt like a small, deliberate act of care. Chocolate Pots de Crème are exactly that — rich, unhurried, and entirely worth it. I made two ramekins. Liam got one. I kept the other.

Chocolate Pots de Crème

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min + 2 hrs chilling | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 6 oz bittersweet chocolate (60–70% cacao), finely chopped
  • 1 1/2 cups heavy cream
  • 1/2 cup whole milk
  • 4 large egg yolks
  • 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • Lightly sweetened whipped cream, for serving (optional)
  • Flaky sea salt, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 325°F. Place six 4-oz ramekins in a deep baking dish and set aside. Bring a kettle of water to a boil.
  2. Melt the chocolate. Place the chopped chocolate in a medium heatproof bowl. In a small saucepan over medium heat, warm the heavy cream and milk together until just steaming — do not boil. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and let sit for 2 minutes, then whisk gently until fully smooth.
  3. Whisk the yolks. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, sugar, and salt until pale and slightly thickened, about 1 minute. Slowly drizzle the warm chocolate mixture into the yolks, whisking constantly so the eggs temper rather than scramble. Stir in the vanilla.
  4. Strain and fill. Pour the custard through a fine-mesh strainer into a pourable measuring cup to remove any cooked egg bits. Divide evenly among the prepared ramekins.
  5. Bake in a water bath. Carefully pour the boiling water into the baking dish until it reaches halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Cover the dish tightly with aluminum foil. Bake for 30–35 minutes, until the edges are just set but the centers still have a slight jiggle.
  6. Cool and chill. Remove the ramekins from the water bath and let cool on a wire rack for 30 minutes. Cover each ramekin with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight, until fully set and cold.
  7. Serve. Top each pot with a small dollop of whipped cream and a pinch of flaky sea salt if desired. Serve directly in the ramekins.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 31g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 115mg

Kate Donovan
About the cook who shared this
Kate Donovan
Week 412 of Kate’s 30-year story · Boston, Massachusetts
Kate is a thirty-five-year-old nurse practitioner in Boston and a widowed mother of two whose husband Sean died of brain cancer at thirty-three. She makes Irish soda bread and beef stew and shepherd's pie because the recipes are all she has left of a man who was supposed to grow old with her. She writes about cooking through grief and finding out you can still feed your children on the worst day of your life.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?