Cream Puff Dessert

February. Six weeks to publication. The promotional schedule is full: a reading at Powell's (confirmed, March 20th, five days after pub date), a signing at Uwajimaya, interviews with the Oregonian and Bon Appétit online and — confirmed now, no longer "possibly" — an essay in the New York Times food section. The New York Times. The three words sit in my vocabulary like foreign objects, too large for the apartment, too prestigious for a woman in pajamas, too significant for a practice that began at a kitchen table at three AM with a newborn and a bowl of soup.

I made amazake — the February survival drink, the sweet fermented rice, the warm comfort. I drank it in bed and read the New York Times food section (online, on my phone, in the dark) and thought: my words will be here. My words, on this page, in this publication, read by people who have never heard of me and never eaten my miso soup and never seen the chipped bowl. The words will have to do the work that the soup usually does: make people feel cared for. Make people feel that someone far away is paying attention to the food and the feeling and the intersection of the two. The words will have to be the soup.

I wrote the New York Times essay — a distilled version of the book's central thesis: that cooking a dead grandmother's recipes is the closest thing to conversation with the dead, and the conversation happens in the kitchen, and the kitchen is the only room where the past and the present coexist without conflict, where the dead and the living share a stove and a bowl and a practice that neither time nor death can interrupt. The essay was one thousand words. The one thousand words took three days to write. The three days were the hardest writing I have ever done, because the audience was the world and the words had to be perfect and the perfection was both necessary and impossible and I sent it anyway, imperfect and necessary, the way every bowl of miso soup is imperfect and necessary.

The essay was sent. The words were out in the world, imperfect and necessary, and the amazake was gone, and I needed something sweet that asked nothing of me in return — no grinding, no fermenting, no three-AM attentiveness. Cream puff dessert is that thing: a layered, creamy, quietly celebratory pan of something that feels like a reward without requiring you to have anything left. I made it the evening after I hit send, still in my pajamas, still too large for the apartment, and it was exactly right.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 50 min + 2 hr chilling | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 cup water
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 cup all-purpose flour
4 large eggs
2 packages (3.4 oz each) instant vanilla pudding mix
2 1/2 cups cold whole milk
8 oz cream cheese, softened
8 oz whipped topping (such as Cool Whip), thawed
1/2 cup chocolate syrup or hot fudge sauce, for drizzling

Instructions

Make the crust. Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C). In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, bring water and butter to a full boil. Remove from heat, add flour all at once, and stir vigorously until a smooth dough forms and pulls away from the sides of the pan.
Add the eggs. Let the dough cool for 5 minutes. Beat in eggs one at a time, stirring well after each addition, until the dough is smooth, glossy, and uniform.
Bake the shell. Spread the dough evenly into a greased 9x13-inch baking pan. Bake for 25–30 minutes until puffed and golden brown. The crust will bubble up — that’s expected. Remove from oven and let cool completely; it will deflate and settle as it cools.
Make the filling. In a large bowl, beat the softened cream cheese until smooth. Add the instant pudding mix and cold milk; beat together until thick and well combined, about 2 minutes.
Layer and chill. Spread the cream cheese and pudding filling evenly over the cooled crust. Top with an even layer of whipped topping. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight.
Finish and serve. Before serving, drizzle chocolate syrup or warm hot fudge sauce over the top. Cut into squares and serve cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cream Puff Dessert — When the Words Have to Be the Soup